25 Days of a Supernatural Christmas
by Zana Zira
Summary: A 25-chapter Christmas story set sometime after Season 8 and starring the Winchesters, Human!Castiel, Gabriel, and Kevin. There will be a new one released every day for the first 25 days of December. Established Dean/Cas & Sam/Gabe in some of the chapters, but nothing explicit. Others are more like bromance. Merry Christmas, everyone, and have a SPN-filled New Year!
1. Hot Cocoa

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

**A/N: Hello, everyone, and Merry Christmas in advance! This is my present to all of you - 25 ficlets, 1 per day until Christmas. There will be Destiel/Sabriel in a few of the fics, but those will be labeled in the Author's Note so you can skip them if that isn't your cup of tea (or hot cocoa, as it were.) Anyway, I've rambled enough. Enjoy, and have a very Supernatural Christmas!**

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It was about nine o'clock in the morning when Sam wandered into the main room of the bunker, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he sat down at the table and opened the book on demon exorcisms he had been reading the night before. He had meant to finish the current chapter last night but had finally had to give up when he started nodding off and risked falling asleep and drooling all over the pages instead.

Sam had always been more of a morning person than Dean and even Castiel, but he was still recovering from the effects of the trials; even though his health had improved dramatically, he still tired easily and slept late. As a result, Dean, Cas, and Kevin were often already absent by the time he woke up, having made breakfast and left some for him before heading deeper into the bunker to explore some of the many nooks and crannies they still hadn't found a purpose for.

So when he heard the front door slam open and saw Castiel practically fall through the doorway, Sam was more than a little surprised. He hurriedly got up and strode to Cas's side, worried that something was wrong. Cas was adjusting relatively well to being human since the angels fell, but some parts of it still confused him, and Sam hoped he hadn't forgotten where the stairs were again and fallen down them like he had last week. To his relief, Castiel appeared to be fine, aside from a little shivering and the bright pink color of his nose and cheeks. In fact, he looked a lot happier than Sam had seen him in a while, his eyes bright as he grinned at the younger Winchester and slipped his winter coat – a gift from Dean and Sam – off so he could hang it up near the door.

"Cas? What's going on?" Sam asked, a little suspicious about what could be making the ex-angel so happy without Dean or Kevin being anywhere in sight.

"It's snowing, Sam," Castiel replied with a small smile, looking for all the world like a very innocent, excited child – which, Sam supposed, he kind of was.

"Well, it _is_ December, Cas," Sam replied calmly as he looked out the open door. Sure enough, large white flakes were falling slowly to the ground outside, already beginning to stick together and cover the ground in a dusting of powdered ice. He shut the door and grimaced in distaste at the white fluff, holding back an eye-roll when he noticed that Cas was completely unaware of the large number of snowflakes that were steadily melting into his hair. The angel had probably been around tons of snow in his innumerable years of existence, but when it came to experiencing it as a human he had no idea what to do.

"I like snow," the ex-angel declared even as he began to shiver slightly without his coat. "But it's… very, very cold."

"I'll bet. One of the best things to have after being outside in the winter is hot cocoa."

"Hot cocoa? Is that an edible substance?"

Sam resisted the urge to laugh, reminding himself that Cas had only recently begun having to eat and drink, so of course he wouldn't know what hot cocoa was.

"It's a hot drink made out of cocoa powder and milk. It's sweet, and it's pretty much a winter tradition all across the country."

"Cocoa is chocolate, yes? Like what you and Dean suggested I try a few weeks ago?" He licked his lips, remembering how good the bar of "milk chocolate" had tasted and finally understanding why Gabriel had eaten so much candy while he masqueraded as the Trickster.

"Yeah, pretty much. You wanna try some and see if you like it?"

"If it isn't too much trouble…"

"Nah, it's fine. I was thinking about making some for myself before you came in, so I'll just make a double batch."

Sam made his way toward the kitchen with Cas at his heels. The angel-turned-human stood back and watched while Sam gathered two mugs, cocoa powder, sugar, and milk and placed them all next to the electric kettle Dean had bought a few months ago.

"Watch carefully, Cas, so you can do this yourself," Sam instructed, and Castiel snapped to attention and stood beside Sam while he began pouring milk into the kettle. "You want enough to be able to fill both mugs almost to the top. That's about three-quarters of a cup per person. I can tell by looking, but if you need to measure it out there are measuring cups in the cabinet above the kettle." When the kettle was full enough, he placed it on a heating plate and flipped a switch on the side downward. "When it's hot, this switch will flip up and stop glowing red. You with me so far?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Alright. Next you take one tablespoon of the cocoa powder and two tablespoons of sugar and mix them together in each of the mugs." Sam demonstrated with his own mug, then let Cas measure out the cocoa and sugar for his. "Some people don't add sugar, but it's a little bitter that way. You can experiment and see what you like next time you make it."

"I had no idea there were so many ways to make boiled milk with cocoa," Castiel said quietly, his face taking on its very common expression of puzzlement. "This is more complex than I had thought."

"There are lots of ways to make everything, Cas. It's not that hard; usually it's just about adding more of what you like and less of what you don't."

As soon as Sam finished talking, the switch on the kettle flipped up with a quiet _click_, and he quickly picked it up and poured the hot milk into their mugs until they were almost brimming over. He stirred them and handed one to Cas, who took a hesitant sip and immediately began staring at it like it was the eighth wonder of the world – his usual response to finding a new food he liked.

"It's very good," he said gratefully, following Sam back into the main room and sitting down at the table with the warm mug cradled between his hands.

"Thanks. It's easy to make, too, and some people add things like whipped cream or marshmallows to the top to sweeten it more. I like it plain, though, so that's how I made yours too." He didn't mention that he liked it plain because he still wasn't able to eat extremely rich or sugary foods without getting sick – that was something only Dean knew. He liked this version just fine, though, and he was content to sip at it slowly as he thumbed through the book of exorcisms again. Cas had found a book on different methods of putting ghosts to rest, and before long the two of them fell into a peaceful silence, their eyelids drooping sleepily as the hot cocoa warmed them up from the inside out.

Two hours later, when he came inside carrying several heavy boxes of Christmas lights, Dean nearly dropped them as he spotted Sam and Cas snoring face-down on their books, chocolate moustaches on their lips and empty mugs clutched in their hands. He snapped a quick picture on his phone and let them keep sleeping. This one was _definitely_ getting sent to Kevin.


	2. Christmas Lights

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and all of its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

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On the first of December, after Dean had awakened Sam and Castiel from their chocolate-induced slumber, all three of them had made the decision to have a real Christmas at the bunker this year. There hadn't been much of a discussion, to Dean's surprise; he knew Cas would be eager to go along with pretty much anything, but he had expected Sam to resist celebrating Christmas the way he had since he was a teenager. Sam, however, was finally beginning to come around to the idea that the bunker was really their home, not just a place to work, and he was happy to be able to decorate it and settle in during the holidays for the first time in his life.

Dean had immediately gone to the store and bought as many decorations as the Impala could carry and today everyone, including Castiel and Kevin, was busy giving the Men of Letters bunker a touch of holiday cheer. Right now Kevin was inside, opening the many boxes of decorations Dean had purchased and writing down suggestions for what to do with them. Castiel and Sam were shoveling nearly two feet of snow out of the driveway, since if they didn't it would be too deep to get the Impala out of the garage when they needed it. And Dean, despite offers of help from both Sam and Cas, was alone on the roof, stringing lights along the outermost edges.

"Are you sure you want to put all of those up by yourself?" Sam shouted up at Dean as his older brother almost dropped a string of lights off of the roof, catching it just in time and cursing under his breath. "I think Cas can handle the shoveling for a while if you need help."

"I don't need help, Sam!" Dean shouted back, lisping since he carried several of the pegs included with the lights between his teeth. "Just keep shoveling and let me show you how it's done!"

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes but continued throwing snow out of the driveway, careful not to hit Cas with any when he tossed it over his shoulder. Castiel looked up at the roof and narrowed his eyes, then shook his head and sighed. Somehow whenever it came to Sam, Dean would rather die than admit he needed help of any kind.

"I only hope he doesn't fall," the once-angel muttered under his breath.

"Don't worry about him, Cas," Sam said nonchalantly. "Even if he does, his hard head'll keep him from getting hurt too bad."

That made Cas's blue eyes grow wide, and he turned back toward Dean with a look of deep concern on his face. "Dean," he called, and the older Winchester turned toward the sound immediately. "Please do not fall off of the roof, not even on your hard head."

Sam busted out laughing, dropping his shovel and holding his middle as he bent double and cackled loudly. He was really starting to appreciate having Cas around again; it usually made everything they did a lot funnier.

"Oookaaaay…" Dean called back, glaring down at Sam. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted or just happy you're concerned, Cas. Don't worry about me, okay? I'll be done with these in a few minutes anyway."

Castiel looked skeptical, but he nodded and went back to shoveling. After Sam managed to stop giggling, he did the same. The three of them worked in silence for another half hour, barely noticing the sleet that had begun to fall almost the instant they started. Cas and Sam finished shoveling quickly, two bodies being more useful than one, and they were about to take the shovels inside when they heard a gasp, and then –

"Son of a biiiiiiiitch!"

Both of them watched, seemingly in slow-motion, as Dean flailed and toppled backwards off of the roof, his right foot tangling in a strand of lights that saved him from hitting the ground head-first but left him hanging by one leg only a few feet above the ground. Then, with a series of pops, the entire string detached from the roof, and Dean plopped face-first into a snowdrift with a muffled yelp of displeasure.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, making his way over to his brother, who at the moment had only his legs sticking up out of the snow. Cas was already over there, having run toward Dean the moment he started to fall, and now he was trying his best to pull the larger man out of the deep snowdrift. With Sam's help and a lot of frustrated grunting from both angel and hunter, Dean was freed from his snowy prison and all three of them fell onto their backs in the snow.

"Son… of a… bitch…" Dean panted, spitting a mouthful of snow out onto the ground beside him.

"Dean, are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?" Cas asked worriedly, already looking Dean over for any visible injury.

"Nah," Dean said with a tired sigh, shaking snow out of his short hair and standing up. "Besides my pride I'm totally good."

"You're shivering," Cas observed, placing a hand on Dean's back but pulling away when it made the older Winchester hiss in discomfort.

"Yeah," he said with another unpleasant shiver. "I got snow shoved up my collar when I fell. My back's soaked right now." He cast a glance up at the roof and groaned loudly. "And now I gotta redo the lights. Perfect. Just perfect."

"No you don't," Sam said firmly, looking up at the roof himself. "For now, let's all just go inside and get warm. It's too icy up there now to put up lights anyway, but when it thaws we can _all_ do it, okay?"

Dean looked like he might protest, but when he saw the way Cas was staring at him, all hopeful at the chance of doing something together, he knew it was a losing battle. "Fine, you win." Stupid brothers using stupid ex-angels with their stupid adorable eyes against him.

"Come on, then," said Cas, wrapping an arm around Dean's shoulders and guiding him toward the bunker's front door. "You can shower and put on dry clothes, and then I can make you some of the delicious heated chocolate drink Sam made for me yesterday."

Dean knew Sam was probably smirking as he watched the two of them, but frankly he just didn't care. A part of him wanted to shrug Cas off, tell him he was a _man_ and only a non-manly man like Sam would ever willingly drink hot friggin' cocoa. But the other part, the one that thoroughly enjoyed being this close to the angel and having him offer to make food for him, won out. "_And really_," he thought as Cas's arm tightened a little and the angel leaned up against him, "_I don't think anyone else would know how to say no to him, either._"


	3. Holiday Sweets

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

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The afternoon of December third found Cas and Dean busy in the kitchen, mixing batter for a variety of Christmas cookies and a spice cake while they waited for a batch of white chocolate to melt on the stove. Dean was pretty much always happy to be in the kitchen. It was a place no one else really seemed to go, and like his room it gave him a way to escape the rest of the world and unwind. Plus, he and everyone else got food out of the deal, so who could complain?

That morning, Castiel had mentioned the fact that he'd never tried a Christmas cookie before. When Dean questioned him further it turned out he'd never had spice cake or peppermint bark either. While this shouldn't have been surprising – he hadn't been human for very long, after all – to Dean it was absolutely unacceptable. Before Cas could say anything worse, like he'd never had pumpkin pie or something, Dean had whisked him off to the store to buy the ingredients for the holiday treats.

Now, as they stood side-by-side mixing two bowls of batter, the hunter was glad to notice a contented smile on the ex-angel's face. Cas smiled more and more these days, and it made him happier every time he saw it. A light on the oven switched off, indicating that it was hot enough for the cake and cookies to go in, and Dean pulled a cake pan down from one of the cupboards.

"Hey, Cas, hand me that cookie sheet, would ya?" Dean asked, holding his bowl of spice cake batter in one hand and searching through the kitchen drawers for a spoon with the other.

"This one?" he asked quietly, holding out a large, shallow metal tray he assumed to be a "cookie sheet."

"Yeah, thanks." Dean took the bowl of cookie dough from Cas, showing him how to spoon just enough out onto the sheet to make several large cookies and how to space them so they wouldn't run into the others. "Alright, you think you can manage this?" Dean asked, handing Cas the spoon and pouring the spice cake batter into a cake pan before sliding it into the oven.

"I think so, yes," Cas said distractedly, intensely focused on the task of making cookies worthy of sitting next to Dean's. A moment passed, and Dean slapped his palm to his forehead.

"I just realized I forgot to buy icing and stuff for the cookies, Cas. You think you can man the kitchen while I go buy some?"

"Yes, I believe I can."

"Alright. Just slide that tray of cookies into the oven when you're done putting 'em on. They need to stay in for fifteen minutes. The cake needs to bake for forty-five, so if I'm not back before then take it out, okay?"

"Yes, Dean."

"Awesome. Thanks man." With that, he slipped out of the room to grab his keys and jacket, leaving Cas alone with the food.

For the next few minutes everything went according to plan. Placing the cookies on the sheet was easy even for Cas, since it didn't involve any actual cooking, and he was feeling fairly proud of himself for successfully completing what Dean had asked of him. He opened up the oven, balancing the cookie sheet on one hand... And then before he even knew what had happened it had overbalanced and spilled into the open oven, dropping cookies between the racks, into the spice cake on the bottom shelf, and out onto the floor. Cas froze, his blood running cold as he stared at the dough littering the floor and already sizzling between the racks of the oven.

"Oh, no…" he moaned in dismay. He reached for the cookies that had spilled into the oven, stopping short when he remembered Dean saying he should always wear oven mitts before getting anything out of the oven. He slipped them on and hurriedly reached for the spice cake, gripping it as tightly as he could so he didn't drop it too. This turned out to be counter-productive, because the mitts immediately slipped against the edges of the round pan, sending it crashing to the floor and leaving a wave of thick batter splattered across the tile.

Cas gaped at the mess, then closed the oven and searched for something to clean up the batter and the cookie dough that had been crushed into the floor. He wiped at it with paper towels, smearing it around more before he realized he'd have to use several more to pick all of the batter up. He'd been at that for nearly twenty minutes, and he'd managed to get all but the stickiest of the residue off of the floor, when the smoke alarm suddenly started going off. He had never heard that sound before and he jumped up immediately, horrified to see smoke coming from the few smoldering cookies that were still stuck to the inside of the oven. To make matters worse, that was the exact moment Dean chose to walk back into the kitchen.

"Whoa, what the hell?!" he shouted, setting the cans of icing and sprinkles down on the table and striding over to Cas. "Cas, what happened?"

"I… I don't know," he answered lamely, his blue eyes impossibly wide as he stared helplessly at Dean. "But I think I angered the strange creature on the ceiling."

Dean took a minute to process that, then realized Cas was referring to the smoke detector. "Okay, alright, just hang on a sec." With calm that could only come from dealing with much worse things than kitchen fires, Dean turned off the oven and grabbed the fire extinguisher, spraying the smoldering cookies until there was not an ember left on any of them. Then he opened the window, fanning the smoke detector with a towel until it quieted. "Alright," he said with a sigh as he wiped the sweat off of his forehead. "Crisis averted." He shot a grin in Castiel's direction. "Y'know, Cas, if you didn't wanna eat spice cake you coulda just said so."

"But I did want to eat it," he said quietly, in a way that was so dejected it made Dean immediately regret teasing him. "Perhaps you were wrong to trust me in the kitchen. I ruined all of your hard work."

"Hey, hey," Dean said, putting a hand on Cas's shoulder so that he would look at him. "None of that self-hating crap, okay? I got enough of that from Sam in my life to last forever. So you made a mistake. Big deal. You should see how bad Sam and Kevin have messed up the kitchen in the past. It's why they're not allowed in here anymore."

"Am I not allowed in here anymore either, then?"

Dean laughed and shook his head. "Nah, dude, you're still allowed in here. But don't be afraid to ask me for help if you don't know how to make something, okay?"

"Okay," Cas said, flashing Dean a relieved smile.

"Good," the hunter said, clapping him on the back. "Now let's get this mess cleaned up. And then we're gonna finish the peppermint bark, since you at least managed to save the chocolate."

"I… did?" Castiel looked over at the counter, where the pot of white chocolate had somehow managed to make its way off of the burner and onto the granite countertop. He had probably just accidentally pushed it over there when he was trying to salvage the cookies, but he was happy nonetheless. "Alright. I look forward to eating the peppermint tree bark."

"It's not _tree_ bark. It's… Ah, never mind. You'll see in a little while."

They fell into a companionable silence as they scrubbed at the sugary mess on the floor, enjoying the quiet and focusing on getting the kitchen back to its usual state of pristine cleanliness. After a few minutes, Cas spoke up again, startling Dean a little.

"Thank you, Dean."

"For what?"

"Nothing, I… Just, thank you."

"Uh… You're welcome?"

Cas smiled to himself and returned to his cleaning. He definitely wanted to make sweets again soon.

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**A/N: This was a pretty fun chapter to write. But Cas was right to be surprised that the chocolate was saved. Why? You'll find out in the next chapter. 'Til then! :)**


	4. Mistletoe

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

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"Are you sure this is a good idea, Sam?" Kevin asked as he tacked a piece of mistletoe above one of the doorways in the bunker. "What if Dean gets mad?"

Sam snorted, handing Kevin another branch from the bushel he held in his arms. "If he does, it's only because he knows we're right."

A few days ago, Sam and Kevin had hatched a plan to place mistletoe all around the bunker, keeping it especially concentrated in areas they knew Dean and Cas frequented. The two of them knew the hunter and the ex-angel were more than friends, and had been for a long time, but Dean still seemed dead-set on keeping that fact a secret from them somehow. Whatever the reason, they were sick of watching Cas stare at Dean with unadulterated adoration in his eyes only to be discouraged every time Dean ignored him in front of them – or, even worse, got embarrassed and then downright pissy toward the angel whenever he showed affection for the hunter.

Well today there would be none of that. Sam and Kevin had gotten up at three in the morning, just after Dean finally turned off the T.V. and they heard him snoring loudly from his room – which, incidentally, happened to be _directly_ across from Castiel's room, so that they could actually see through each other's doorways if both doors were open. Once they were sure that Castiel was still asleep too, Sam had brought out the box of fresh mistletoe branches he had bought and stashed in his closet beneath a pile of dirty laundry. Now, at five o'clock, every door, entryway, and hallway was adorned with the tiny green branches with the snow-white berries, strategically placed in a way that even Dean shouldn't be able to avoid. Hopefully he'd take the hint and just loosen up already.

Their decorating finished, Sam and Kevin headed back to their rooms, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before Dean and Cas woke up and the show began.

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Dean hadn't gotten as much sleep last night as he would have liked. Every time he drifted off, he kept thinking he heard his brother's voice right on the edge of his consciousness. But every time he woke up and listened for it, there wasn't a sound to be heard. It was unnerving, but when Dean finally got out of bed at around five-thirty a.m. and looked around for Sam, he found him asleep in his bed where he was supposed to be. Kevin and Cas were the same, and Dean shrugged and chalked up his strange dreams to all the excitement he'd dealt with in the kitchen the day before.

"Dean?"

Dean startled at the sound of Castiel's growling voice, whirling around in the dim hallway to face the angel who had managed to sneak up on him. Cas yawned widely, tugging a wrinkled section of one of Dean's old AC/DC shirts down where it had ridden up over his plaid pajama pants, and blinked owlishly at the hunter.

"God, Cas, don't do that!"

"Don't blaspheme, Dean," Cas scolded.

"Right. Sorry. Anyway, why are you up? It's not even light out yet."

"I could ask you the same question."

"Weird dreams. Couldn't sleep."

Castiel's expression immediately became concerned. "Why did you not come to me? You always let me come to you when I have unpleasant dreams."

Dean blushed a little, glad Sam wasn't around to hear Cas right now. "Th-that's different."

"How?"

"I… Um… It just is, okay?"

Cas tilted his head, obviously not completely believing Dean's explanation, but finally nodded and slipped his arms around Dean in a loose hug. "Just remember that I will always help you when I can, whether I have my grace or I don't."

Dean nodded and returned the hug, smiling into Cas's hair. "I know. Thanks, Cas."

"…_knew it…_"

Dean and Castiel pulled apart and whirled around at the pair of whispered voices they heard just behind them in the hall. To Dean's dismay, it was Sam and Kevin, grinning like a pair of fools at what they had just witnessed.

"What the hell?" Dean growled in what he hoped was a fierce tone and not the slightly squeaky rasp it felt like to him. "What are you two doing up?"

"We heard you come into our rooms and then sneak out as quietly as possible," Kevin answered smugly. "Kinda figured you might be up to something naughty with your angel."

"What in the hell makes you think I –" Dean began, but Castiel cut him off mid-sentence.

"Firstly, I am a human now, not an angel. And secondly, we would not do that in the hallway, Kevin."

Dean choked on his own spit and turned the color of a tomato.

"Oh-ho-ho, this is way easier than I expected," Sam said with a shit-eating grin that made Dean want to punch him.

"What is?" the older Winchester snarled, still a deep crimson around his neck and ears.

"Look up."

Dean and Cas both looked up at the ceiling, and Cas tilted his head sideways when he saw the sprig of mistletoe hanging up above their heads. Dean blanched, his eyes wide, and shook his head, backing up a little farther away from the ex-angel.

"No. No way. Nuh-uh," he said, still trying to back up although he had already touched the wall.

"I don't understand," Castiel said softly. "Why are there poisonous plants hanging from the ceiling?"

"It's something people do for fun around Christmastime, Cas," Sam explained patiently, giving a heated glare to his brother. "When two people stand together under the mistletoe, they're supposed –"

"Enough!" Dean shouted, grabbing Castiel's arm and practically dragging him down the hall. "Let's just forget the mistletoe, okay? I'll just make breakfast, since we're all up already, and… Oh, come _on!_"

Kevin and Sam followed the pair of them into the kitchen, and then even they froze and stared in awe at what they saw. The entire kitchen, from the ceilings to the walls and even the appliances, was covered in mistletoe from top to bottom. The white berries dotted everything like strings of pearls, and there was even a vase full of mistletoe branches sitting in the center of the cabinet. Topping it all off, on the wall that faced the hall leading into the kitchen there were more white berries than in any other place, and they had somehow been arranged in a way that quite obviously spelled out "JUST KISS HIM ALREADY."

Castiel walked forward slowly, running his fingers over the mistletoe-covered walls as if doubting the plants were real. Sam and Kevin stood stock-still, completely dumbfounded by the way their little prank seemed to have blown up of its own accord. Dean, once he overcame the shock, turned around and stalked over to his brother and the prophet; they were pretty sure that if it was physically possible there would be steam coming out of his ears right now.

"Really?" he asked quietly, his tone somewhere between complete amazement and murderous anger. "My love life is so amusing to you that you gotta do _this_ while I'm asleep?" He was so furious he didn't even realize he'd essentially just outed himself to them both.

"I swear, we only put up a few in all the doorways!" Sam said immediately. "I have no idea how this happened, but we had nothing to do with it."

"Yeah, sure. Well, whatever." He sighed heavily, realizing he was in way over his head and there was no way to win. "Cas, c'mere."

Castiel looked up from his examination of the mistletoe's pearly berries and strode over to Dean, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Yes, De – _mmph!_"

The ex-angel's words were caught off when Dean smashed their lips together, wrapping one arm around Castiel's waist and letting his other hand roam through his dark hair. Cas relaxed into it immediately, returning the kiss with just as much energy if not more as he grabbed a fistful of Dean's shirt and pressed himself against the hunter, a small noise of pleasure escaping the back of his throat. After a few seconds they broke apart, and Dean glared defiantly at his brother and Kevin, who were staring wide-eyed at the two of them.

"There. I kissed Cas in front'a you two. You happy now, perverts?"

"_Yes!_ It's about freakin' time, sheesh!"

Everyone turned toward the source of the strange voice, and for the second time in less than five minutes they were all struck speechless. Standing in the hallway between the kitchen and the main room of the bunker was Gabriel, the Archangel they had believed to be dead for years. For having supposedly been killed by Lucifer, he looked surprisingly healthy, and he leaned lazily against the wall while he smirked and bit into a piece of the peppermint bark Dean and Cas had made the day before.

"I thought you'd never man up and admit to it, Dean-o," Gabriel said with a tired sigh. "Dunno why, since everyone but you has always seen it coming. And you'd think a hunter like you would've realized something was up yesterday when that chocolate Cas should've burnt mysteriously managed to turn out alright. But, well, I guess you've lost a little of your touch."

"How… How are you alive?" Sam asked, his eyes even wider than they had been a moment ago.

"Helloooo? Trickster? Awesome at faking my own death? Any of that ring a bell, Samsquatch?"

"You… but… I…"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake!" Gabriel stepped forward and grabbed onto Sam's shoulder, pulling him down so he could try to plant a kiss right on his lips. Sam gasped and pulled away, trying to escape but failing when Gabriel grabbed his arm and held on with angelic strength. "Aww, don't be that way, Sammy. Come on, I just got back. Didn't you miss me at all?"

"No!" Sam said, breaking away and storming off down the hall while Gabriel shook his head and grinned.

The angel turned to Dean, Cas, and Kevin, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, guys, we can catch up in a minute. Right now there's something else I gotta deal with." In the blink of an eye he had disappeared, leaving them alone in the kitchen.

"Uh, not that it's any of my business," Kevin said after Sam and Gabriel had disappeared from view. "But did something happen between Sam and that angel before?"

"Hell if I know. Sure looks like it, though, huh?" Dean said with a frown. "Do you know anything, Cas?"

Castiel shrugged, taking a bite of peppermint bark and looking away from Dean as nonchalantly as he could. "I'm not supposed to talk about it."

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**A/N: Yay, Gabriel's alive! How? 'Cause he's Gabriel. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. I promise Sam won't be an ice queen toward Gabe forever. ;)**


	5. Christmas Tree

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

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"Jeez, Dean, could you have picked a bigger one?" Sam asked with a grin as he and his brother carried the enormous box containing their new store-bought tree up the driveway toward the bunker's front door.

"If I'd thought to bring a pickup instead of Baby, you bet," he said with an even bigger smile, grunting a little as they turned the corner and the box tried to flip over sideways. He had chosen to be the one who walked backwards up the path, and Sam hoped he didn't trip and end up under the box. "We've got friggin' _vaulted ceilings_ now, Sammy. We can have as big a tree as we want."

Sam smiled, realizing the truth of that a little belatedly. They'd really never had anything resembling a real Christmas tree until the year before Dean went to Hell, and even that one was pretty sad. As kids, they'd usually just go outside and pull down the fluffiest pine branch they could find, decorating it with whatever fishing lures and bottlecaps they found and collected around town. That had had to stop after Sam turned ten, because he'd managed to bring in a branch that was infested with brown recluse spiders and Dad was _not_ happy about it. Dean had never blamed him for it aloud, but Sam had always suspected that he'd let his brother down on some level when that happened.

Now, though, they were finally going to have a real Christmas tree, decorated the way everyone decorated them, and it would last forever because it was artificial. It was even pre-lit with red, green, and white bulbs, saving them the trouble of stringing lights all over the place and finding enough outlets to plug them all in. Dean finally reached the front door, kicking it a few times with the heel of his boot to let Cas and Kevin know they were home. Only a few seconds later, the door swung open, and a fascinated Castiel stepped out of the way enough to let them in and then closed it behind them. He watched as they carried the box to the main room of the bunker, barely blinking when Gabriel stood by his side and threw one arm lazily over his shoulder.

"Y'know, I could just conjure up a tree for you guys," he said as he took a bite of the peppermint bark he had snatched right out of Castiel's hands a few minutes ago. Dean ignored him, still too excited about seeing what the tree looked like, and Sam snorted irritably and rolled his eyes as he started cutting the tape on the edges of the box open. "I'm serious."

"I doubt that," Sam said under his breath.

Gabriel sighed. He knew Sam was mad at him for disappearing like that for so long, especially since he'd made a pretty convincing show of dying in front of all of them, but he wasn't sure what he could do to fix it. He knew how to manipulate people, sure, but that wasn't actually helpful when he was dealing with people he cared about.

Castiel had forgiven him easily enough, having done some pretty deceptive things himself once upon a time and seemingly just happy to have his older brother back, for which the Archangel was grateful. Dean didn't seem to care one way or the other whether Gabriel was there or not; if Cas was happy, Dean was happy, it seemed, and he'd let Gabriel stay without any resistance. But Sam was another case entirely. Sam had truly grieved losing Gabriel, although only privately, and earning his forgiveness was probably going to take a while. Well, he was an Archangel; he'd faced bigger challenges than this, and he was going to keep at it until he had his Sasquatch back.

"Alright," Dean said with a bright grin as they finally opened the box and he pulled out the bundles of artificial pine needles that would soon be their fifteen-foot Christmas tree. "Let's see what we've got here." He studied the instructions for a few minutes, mouthing the words silently to himself, and then turned to Castiel. "Alright, Cas, can you find Kevin and start unpacking those decorations we bought the other day? Sam and I'll start putting the tree together in the meantime."

"Okay," Castiel said with a short nod, disappearing down the hall almost as silently as he had when he still had his grace.

"What should I do?" Gabe asked hopefully.

"Nothing," Sam snapped, still not looking at him. "In fact, you don't have to stay here at all."

Gabriel didn't know how to respond to that, and Dean gave him an apologetic look over Sam's shoulder. "_He'll come around,_" the older Winchester mouthed when his brother wasn't looking. "_I did._" The angel smiled. Maybe Dean wasn't as much of a jerk as he had always appeared to be.

"Hey, Sammy," he began, trying to draw his brother out of whatever funk he was in.

"Mm?" Sam asked, focused on lining up one of the tree's branches with the hole it was supposed to snap into.

"I didn't pick a tree-topper for us yet. What do you think we should use?"

"Hmm… I dunno. I think a lot of people put angels on top of their trees, so maybe an angel?"

"Yeah. Maybe."

A sudden yelp and a crash from the other room startled them out of their brooding, and they both jumped up and ran toward it as fast as they could. As soon as they reached the doorway, though, Dean snorted and covered his mouth with his hand, trying his best not to laugh and failing terribly. There were Christmas balls strewn everywhere, most of them still intact but a few of them broken into tiny pieces, and several other unopened boxes of them had also toppled onto the floor. And in the midst of all the chaos, Castiel was tangled head-to-toe in silver tinsel, wriggling as he fought to free himself and not being helped at all by Kevin, who like Dean was too busy trying not to laugh to be useful.

"Umm… Help?" Castiel said rather pathetically, and Dean lost it, doubling over and howling with laughter until he'd sunk to his knees on the floor.

"Cas, you… BAHAHAHAHAAA! What the… the h… What the hell happened? How'd you… even manage that?"

"This isn't funny, Dean," Castiel said with a glare, although it was much less intimidating than it should have been seeing as he was still stuck on his back in the middle of a sea of tinsel.

"Alright, alright, hang on," Dean said with a final chuckle, standing up and helping free Castiel from his glittery chains. The ex-angel stood up with the air of a cat whose tail has just been stepped on, even shaking himself off and then sighing with a glare at Dean that quickly turned into a look of apology.

"I messed it up again," he said softly, staring regretfully at the mess of boxes and tinsel on the floor.

"It's okay," Sam said before Dean could even respond. "Why don't you and Kevin help us set up the tree first and we'll worry about the decorations later? It's fifteen feet tall, so we're gonna need someone to hold a stepladder for me because even I can't reach that high."

"Sure," Kevin said, making his way back toward the main room with the others right behind him. He pulled up short when he got there, though, and they all almost ran into each other when he did.

"Kevin? What's up?" Dean asked, not being able to see from the back of the group.

"Look."

They all stepped out into the main room, and everyone's jaw dropped. The tree had already been assembled, fifteen massive feet of multicolored lights glowing brightly and making the red and gold Christmas balls shine next to all the silver tinsel. The box the tree came in had been neatly placed against the far wall, and all of the boxes that had held the tinsel and ornaments were collapsed and piled in a perfect stack near the front door. To top it all off, Gabriel sat on the very top of the tree, grinning down at them proudly from his perch like the cat that ate the canary.

"Well, whaddya think?" he asked when they'd been staring for ten seconds without saying a word.

"It's… wow…" Kevin said, not bothering to conceal his awe. He knew angels could do just about anything they wanted, but the only one he'd ever met was Castiel, who had never had cause to assemble a Christmas tree in the blink of an eye. This just about blew his Advanced Placement mind.

"Yeah, wow," Sam and Dean said in unison, and then Dean sighed. "You're gonna show me up at every opportunity now, aren't ya, Gabe?"

"Probably," the Archangel answered.

"But, Brother," Castiel said with his usual head-tilt. "Why are you sitting on top of the tree? As far as I know that isn't a normal practice."

"Dean and Sam said they wanted an angel as a tree-topper. I'm just granting their wish."

Sam's eyes widened for a moment, and Gabriel was happy to see his lips quirk up into a smile so brief he wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been looking right at him. That was progress, at least.

"Well, since we're done a little early, I guess I'll start lunch," Dean said, still staring at the tree for a while before he turned around and headed toward the kitchen. "Soup good with everyone?" They all nodded, starting to head to their rooms since Dean would call them when it was ready and he didn't like them hovering while he was cooking. Just before Sam left the room, he looked back at the tree one more time, chuckling and shaking his head at Gabriel, who was still sitting cross-legged on the top of the tree as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Oh, yes, Gabriel thought as he watched Sam's face brighten for the briefest moment before he turned and went to his room. This was definitely progress.


	6. Candle

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of the characters.**

**A/N: Sorry for waiting to post this until almost the end of the day! It's my first real Sabriel, so I'm pretty nervous about it. Please let me know what you guys think.**

* * *

It had been a long time since Sam had slept soundly. In fact, he probably hadn't had a full night's sleep that wasn't drug- or coma-induced since he was a child, curled up in bed with his big brother there to protect him from the things that went bump in the night. Ever since the beginning of the trials, though, his sleeping habits had become even worse, and it was rare that he made it over two hours without waking from a nightmare, silently screaming and panting like he'd just run a marathon.

So when Sam awoke at just past two-thirty in the morning on December sixth, he wasn't at all surprised, or even that annoyed. These days, he'd at least had trouble remembering what his nightmares were about, and that yielded itself to a much faster return to sleep. He was about to close his eyes and do just that, when suddenly he noticed that the room was a lot brighter than it should be even though the lights were off. It wasn't much, just a soft golden glow that flickered across the walls, but it was definitely out of place.

Sam sat up in bed, searching for the source of the light, and was surprised to see a single candle sitting on his desk, its deep golden flame dancing back and forth despite the fact that the air in the room was totally still. Sighing, he stood up to go blow it out, thinking maybe Dean had left it there during one of the many times he'd probably checked on Sam before going to bed himself. Sam appreciated the concern, he really did, but now that he was recovering Dean's tendency to hover could get a little annoying. He was thirty years old, after all. Surely he could make it through eight hours without his big brother-slash-mother checking up on him every thirty minutes.

He drew in a small breath, blowing it out at the candle and then blinking in surprise when the flame seemed to grow larger and brighter instead of snuffing out. He tried again, and it brightened again, to the point that the light was almost painful to look at directly. Confused, he reached for the candlestick, intending to pick it up and run it under some water so he could put it out.

The instant he did, however, the candlestick and candle vanished, leaving only a ball of golden light floating in the air a few inches above his hand. It still gave off the same amount of light while it danced back and forth in place, but he could not feel a bit of heat, or even cold. His heart began to beat a bit faster with apprehension. A spirit, maybe? He tentatively reached out to touch it, and his entire body was immediately flooded with a comfortable sense of warmth and peace. It was a familiar sensation, but he couldn't remember exactly why; he only knew he didn't want it to stop. A second later, the ball of light jumped away from him, and so did the warm feeling. With an involuntary groan at the loss of the sensation, he decided to follow it, trailing just too far behind to touch it as it passed through his door and glided its way down the hall.

For what seemed an eternity, he followed the glowing sphere, barely noticing that it was guiding him toward the main room of the bunker. All he heard was the sound of his feet slapping softly against the hard floor. When he reached what had essentially become their living room, the orb stopped, and so did Sam. While he watched, it began to expand, rapidly stretching out into the shape of something resembling wings. They shone a brilliant gold, thousands of brilliant feathers that gave off light and reflected it as well, sending shimmers of silver and red across the six beautiful wings as they unfurled to their full span.

Sam's heart began to race, pounding so loudly he was sure it would echo around the room. He knew what was happening now; he'd seen those wings before, and it brought back feelings of happiness he'd long forgotten to see them again. Eventually the light faded, and where it had shone stood Gabriel, smiling gently at Sam as his wings once again disappeared into the realm that humans could not see.

"Gabriel…" Sam whispered, afraid his voice would crack if he spoke any louder.

"Yes," Gabriel said only slightly louder, approaching Sam with his arms open for an embrace. When Sam startled and backed away, he sighed, crossing his arms and smirking at the younger Winchester. "Oh, come on. What part of '_Be not afraid,_' are you not getting here, Samsquatch?"

Sam glared at him, shaking his head as he forced himself to forget the feelings of comfort the mere sight of those golden wings had brought him. He knew what Gabriel was doing – had been trying to do since he got here – and it wasn't going to work, not this time.

"Shut up," he spat, glaring daggers at the Archangel. "I thought I made it clear I'm not interested."

"But is that the truth?" Gabriel asked, his face losing all of its playfulness and taking on an expression that almost looked sorrowful. "Is it really that you aren't interested? Because I can see what's in your heart, Sam, and what I see is you not _allowing_ yourself to be interested. I don't understand. We used to love each other, Sam. What changed?"

Sam stared at him, snorting and shaking his head in disbelief. How could a nearly all-knowing Archangel of the Lord be this dense? "What _happened_," he said with venom in his voice, "is you _left_ me. You _died_ in front of me, Gabriel."

"But I wasn't really –"

"Yeah, I know. But it's a little late to tell me that _now_." Sam sighed, and when he looked up at Gabriel his eyes were damp. "I couldn't even go to Dean for support after you left; he'd never have understood at the time. And I sure as hell couldn't go to Castiel for the same reason. You left me to grieve you _alone_, in secret, and never told me it was all going to be an act!"

"Sam –"

"No, let me finish. That was hell to go through, Gabriel, it really was. But the worst part, the very worst thing, was that Lucifer made me see it over and over again when I was actually _in_ Hell. He was so proud, so happy to have taken you away, and he made sure I always knew it. So forgive me for being a little friggin' frosty when you come waltzing back saying you're alive and well, but for all I know it could be just another illusion and after all I've been through recently I _cannot_ go through that again." His voice finally broke, and his next words came out in a barely-audible whisper. "_I can't, Gabe. I just can't…_"

Before he knew it, Sam felt himself being pulled against Gabriel's shorter body, embraced tightly as the angel brought out his wings again and wrapped both of them up in a protective golden barrier. Like a dam bursting, Sam immediately collapsed to his knees on the floor, sobbing as a combination of relief and the grief, frustration, and fear he'd kept bottled up for so many years without realizing it welled up inside him at nearly suffocating levels.

"It's okay, Sammy," Gabriel said softly, sitting down with the hunter and keeping him tucked inside his wings while he stroked his long hair and let him cry on his shoulder. They sat like that for several minutes, until Sam's nearly-hysterical sobs lessened to loud sniffles and then to quiet hiccups. He hugged Gabriel to him like an enormous child, desperately afraid to lose the closeness and physical contact between them.

"Gabe…" Sam whispered brokenly, finally looking up into the angel's eyes with tears still drying on his cheeks. "Gabriel… It's you… It's really you…"

"Yeah, Sam, it's really me," Gabriel said gently, brushing a strand of Sam's hair behind his ear and drying the tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand. "I'm back, and I'm never leaving again, okay?"

"But how can I be sure of that? You're still an angel, and that means you can't be around twenty-four seven like Castiel can now. How am I supposed to reach you?"

Gabriel smiled, his eyes reflecting the wisdom of one who has lived much longer than any human can imagine. "Pray, Sam. Pray, and whenever I can, I'll come to you. And here," he said, pulling a golden feather out of one of his wings with a small grunt of pain. "I have to leave in the morning, but I'll be back just as soon as I can. Keep this with you – it's a manifestation of a tiny piece of my grace. Even if this vessel dies, as long as that feather still glows, you'll know I'm still alive and out there somewhere."

Sam took the feather, holding it reverently and admiring the way it seemed to reflect every color of light at once even as it shone with light of its own. In a way it was like a candle, a tiny golden flame-shaped feather warming Sam's hands while he held it. Sam would have to ask Dean if he had ever seen Castiel's wings when he still had them; if they were anywhere near as beautiful as Gabriel's, they must have been absolutely breathtaking.

"So, are we okay?" Gabriel asked hesitantly, all traces of angelic arrogance fading as he nervously awaited Sam's answer.

"I dunno," Sam said, his mouth suddenly quirking up into a playful grin. "You tell me."

With that, he pressed his lips to Gabriel's, moaning into his mouth as they reacquainted themselves with sensations and emotions they hadn't felt in far too long. When they broke apart, even Gabriel was a little flushed, his hair ruffled where Sam had run his hands through it.

"Yeah," Gabriel said breathlessly, wiping his lips with the palm of his hand. "I'd call that okay." Sam yawned, and Gabriel threw an arm around Sam's larger shoulders. "C'mon, I know you're tired. I'll stay with you until you're asleep."

Sam nodded, suddenly remembering how tired he'd been before he came out here, and the two of them made their way back toward his room side-by-side. And from their position behind a barely-opened door, Dean and Castiel watched over them and smiled proudly to themselves.


	7. Blanket

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

Dean was feeling pretty proud of himself right now. As he and Sam walked home from the grocery store along sidewalks that had only the slightest traces of snow remaining on them, he could see a spring in his brother's step that hadn't been there in quite some time, and he knew it was mostly due to Gabriel patching things up between them the night before. The death of the Archangel had affected Sam in ways Dean had never realized until he came back to them, and he felt terrible for not noticing the way his brother was suffering, instead focusing on the issues between him and Cas and relying on Sam as a pillar of support. As a way of easing some of his guilt, Dean had been the one to suggest that Gabriel do something unusual and romantic, the way Cas had done for him in the past, and Gabriel had been more than happy to agree.

It had obviously worked, and now Sam was cheerier and more energetic than Dean had seen him since the trials began. In fact, it seemed a little of Gabriel's mischief had even rubbed off on him, because when they rounded the corner that would point them straight toward the bunker, Sam stretched his foot out in front of Dean's, tripping him and almost landing him flat on his face before he caught his balance and landed on his knees instead.

"Sammy, what the hell?" Dean asked, standing up and making sure he hadn't dropped any of their dinner ingredients before staring intently at his brother.

"I dunno," Sam said nonchalantly, giving Dean his best _I'm-your-little-brother-and-you'd-never-hurt-me_ look. "I just felt like it."

Dean grinned evilly, recalling a time almost two decades ago when this kind of thing was a daily occurrence for the both of them. "Oh, it's _on_ now." He playfully shoved Sam back, making him lean backwards and stumble to keep himself upright. This wouldn't have been a problem normally, but today there was still a small amount of half-melted slush on the ground, and Sam's foot chose that moment to land right on top of a slick patch. With a tiny gasp of surprise, he slipped and fell backwards, dropping his bag of groceries and tumbling down into the drainage ditch full of snow-melt with a loud splash.

"Oh, shit, Sammy!" Dean shouted, forgetting his own bags and letting them crash to the ground as he scrambled down the edge of the ditch after Sam. The water wasn't deep, probably no more than two feet, but it was also thirty-four degrees – very bad to land in _ever_, but especially in the middle of winter when the air temperature wasn't much warmer. By the time he got there, Sam had pulled himself out of the water, drenched from head to toe and shaking while he dragged himself along the sloped ground.

"Oh G-God-d, D-Dean…" Sam stammered, hugging his arms to himself and shaking like a leaf while his hair dripped even more cold water down his back and shoulders.

"Okay, alright, come on Sammy," Dean said gently, throwing Sam's arm over his shoulders and leading him up the steep edge of the ditch and back onto the sidewalk. Sam stayed silent aside from the chattering of his teeth, pressing close to Dean's warmer body as they made their way up the street toward the bunker. Dean practically dragged him along, going as fast as he could without sending Sam face-planting onto the cement, and in only a few minutes they had arrived at the bunker's front door, groceries long-forgotten somewhere near the water. Dean kicked the door with the steel toe of his boot, and Cas opened it mere moments later, obviously having expected them to need help opening it with arms full of bags. When the ex-angel saw them, though, his eyes widened, and he flung the door wide while he ushered them in.

"What happened?" he asked with concern as Dean guided Sam to sit down on one of the wooden chairs in the main room.

"Cas, can you get a towel and some blankets?" Dean said instead, working Sam's boots and socks off his feet while the younger Winchester wriggled out of his shirt and then hugged himself with his chin tucked to his chest. Castiel nodded, dashing off to retrieve towels from the linen closet, and Dean watched with pity as Sam tried and failed to unbutton his jeans with his shaking hands. "Here, Sammy, hold still," Dean said, brushing his hands away and unbuttoning them himself before backing off to at least give Sam privacy while he stripped the rest of the way. When he turned around, though, Sam was still in his boxers, and Dean rolled his eyes. "Y'know, you're gonna have to take those off too if you wanna get warm."

Sam shook his head, still trembling like a leaf. "C-C-Cas w-will s-s… will s-see…" It wasn't rational, and normally Sam wouldn't have cared at all, but when one is as cold as he was, they don't tend to think very rationally.

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" they heard Castiel say from behind them. The ex-angel was carrying a large cotton comforter with a fluffy towel balanced on top, and as he approached the brothers he lifted them in front of his face so he could not see Sam at all. "I can assure you there's no need to be embarrassed, Sam. I have seen more of humanity by now than I sometimes care to. But if it makes you feel better, I will not look until you're dressed. Now please, warm yourself."

Sam smiled in thanks, taking the towel and drying himself off while Cas turned away from him and Dean went to fetch him some clothes. Within less than a minute he had returned, helping Sam slip into the warm flannel pajamas after he had slipped on a dry pair of boxers.

"Alright, c'mon," Dean said, pointing toward the couch in the living room. Sam stumbled over toward it and curled up with his legs under him, trying to warm the chill out of his bones. Dean motioned for Cas to follow them, and he stood just beside the couch as he waited for Dean to explain what he wanted him to do. "Cas, you get on his left side, and I'll get on the right." They both settled down beside Sam, pressed as close as they could in order to share some of their body heat while Dean threw the large, thick comforter over the three of them. It was one he'd snagged from a motel about ten years ago, and to this day it only resurfaced when one of them was sick or hurt and in need of comfort.

"Mmmmmph," Sam mumbled, pulling the blanket up until he was only visible from the bridge of his nose upwards. He leaned against Cas, who was warmer than Dean since he'd been sitting by the fireplace all morning, and the once-angel blinked for a moment before throwing an arm around Sam and pulling him into a sort of hug. Dean smiled, both in amusement and encouragement, and patted Sam's shoulder, rubbing his back from behind to bring some warmth back into it. There would be no teasing about any of this later, either. The brothers might give each other and Cas a hard time about "chick-flick moments" under normal circumstances, but there was an unspoken rule between them that anything they did while hurt or sick was not to be used as fodder for jokes.

It didn't take long for Sam's tremors to lessen to slight shivering, much to Dean's relief, and within a few more minutes he'd fallen asleep against Castiel, snoring lightly as his body gave into the exhaustion that re-warming itself had caused. Cas smiled at him, staying right where he was lest he accidentally wake him, and Dean reached for the T.V. remote, turning on some nature show on the animal channel at a low volume so they would have something to do while Sam slept.

Not long after, the two of them began to nod off as well, staying under the blanket in the "Sammich" as they laid their head on the younger Winchester's enormous shoulders and fell asleep themselves. And when Kevin came back from his trip to the library several hours later, he didn't even laugh, just straightening the blanket where it had fallen off of Cas's shoulders and making his way back toward the laundry room. He had a feeling there was a lot of wet clothing that needed washing right now.


	8. Knitting

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

"Cas, man, you need to throw that thing away," Dean said, pointing to the ratty wool knit scarf hanging around Castiel's neck and shoulders. They had both gone out for a walk, something Castiel did often but Dean usually did not, and the first thing the ex-angel had done before they left was throw the old red-and-white scarf on, fluffing it up so his neck stayed nice and warm. Unfortunately, it was either not of good quality or had just seen way too many uses, because the entire time they'd been walking it had been shedding little pieces of wool yarn, leaving a trail of red and white behind them all the way back to the bunker. Once they got back, Dean had figured Cas would realize it was practically falling apart and get rid of it. So far, no such luck.

Castiel hugged the scarf protectively to him, shaking his head and backing away from Dean as though afraid he might snatch it away. "But I like this scarf, Dean," he said softly. "It was a present from Bobby, remember?"

"No, you snagged it from Bobby's coat closet years ago when it was cold and he didn't ask for it back because you liked it so much. I wouldn't really call it a 'present,' Cas. He hated that thing anyway."

Cas stared mournfully at the tattered scarf, rubbing it between his fingers and sighing. "I guess it really is falling apart, isn't it?"

"Yeah. And it's shedding everywhere, Cas. I don't wanna be picking up yarn all over the place."

Castiel looked into Dean's eyes, seeing that the hunter was serious, and relented. "Okay," he said softly, gazing down at his feet. "I will get rid of it."

The look of sadness in his eyes was completely unexpected, and Dean almost told him to keep the thing just to get that expression off of his face. But instead, he held out his hands, and Cas tilted his head in confusion. "Let me take care of it, okay?"

Castiel nodded, handing the candy-cane-colored scarf over and then making his way toward his room, which he rarely used anymore now that he often shared with Dean. "I'm going to go read a book," he said with almost no emotion, the way he had when was still an angel. "Call if you need me."

Dean nodded, and when Cas was gone he clutched the scarf tightly in his fist. The look on Cas's face had just about broken his heart, although he couldn't understand how a person could care so much about a scarf. Then, suddenly remembering just how much he'd loved his father's old leather jacket, he decided he knew _exactly_ what it felt like to be attached to a piece of clothing, and how horrible it was to lose it. "Well," he muttered to himself. "Looks like I'm just gonna have to get him another one, huh?"

* * *

A knock on Castiel's door startled him awake from where he'd dozed off with his book sitting open on his lap. Blinking rapidly, he turned his head toward the door, wiping a tiny bit of drool off of his bottom lip with the back of his hand. "Come in."

It was Sam, and he came into Cas's room slowly, as if looking for something.

"Hello, Sam."

"Hey, Cas. Have you seen Dean anywhere?"

"Not for a few hours. Why?"

"I dunno. I keep thinking I hear him walking around, but whenever I go into the room there's no one there. I keep finding yarn everywhere, too, and I don't know where it's coming from." Sam held out his hand, in which sat several pieces of tangled red and white wool yarn.

"That_ is_ strange. My scarf was losing yarn in those colors, but Dean assured me he was throwing it away. Perhaps he –"

"Wait, shh!" Sam said, holding up a hand to silence Cas. Out in the hall, they heard Dean's bedroom door swing open, and a pair of footsteps entering before the door closed again. Sam held up a finger in front of his lips, telling Cas to keep silent, and slowly opened the door, stepping out into the hall with Castiel close behind him. Once again, he reached down and picked up a strand of yarn, this time a long string of red. A look of astonishment spread over Sam's features, and he glanced over his shoulder at Cas. "I think…" he whispered. "I think _Dean_ is where the yarn's coming from."

"Well then, let's find out," Castiel said matter-of-factly, stepping forward and pushing the door open. The second he did, he heard Dean gasp and saw the hunter hide something behind his back, glaring at Sam and Cas from where he sat cross-legged on top of the bed.

"A little privacy, guys?" he asked, eyes flicking nervously from side to side. All around him on the bed and floor, there were strings of red and white yarn, some as short as an inch and some almost a foot in length.

"What's that behind your back, Dean?" Sam said with a teasing grin, starting to put two and two together way before Cas did.

"Nothing. It's absolutely not a thing."

"Uh-huh. Come on, let's see," Sam said, approaching the bed like a parent whose child had a habit of bringing strange insects into the house.

"No!" Dean said, lying on his back with his hands under his spine in an effort to hide whatever was in them. Sam ignored him, reaching under Dean's back and trying to grab whatever it was. "Hey! I said no, dammit!"

But Sam was having none of it. He pushed Dean away enough to get a grip on the soft thing under him, pulling until it came free and triumphantly holding up the – Sam froze, his expression changing from amusement to amazement. "Dean, is this…" he said, staring at the red and white strip of knitted wool yarn in shock. "Is this a scarf?"

"Yes, okay? It's a damn scarf. And I was gonna bring it out when I was done with it, but you had to get impatient and barge in before I finished the last tassel on the end."

"Wait, _tassels_? You _made_ this?"

"I thought we'd established that already, Sammy."

"But… But you… You _knit_?"

Dean rolled his eyes, pulling a pair of knitting needles and two small balls of red and white yarn out of his jacket pockets. "Yeah, and you'd better not tell a soul outside of this room. Lisa taught me while I was living with her."

Sam looked like he might short-circuit. Had he been a computer, his face would be showing a blue screen with a big ERROR message running across it. "Knitting. You, Dean Winchester, my tough-as-nails, demon-hunting, 'no chick-flick-moments' brother, _knit_?" When Dean didn't answer, he busted out laughing, leaning on the doorframe for support while he threw his head back and cackled. "Oh my God, that's awesome!"

Cas scowled at Sam, both for the blasphemy and the way he was teasing Dean, and finally spoke. "Well, you found him, Sam. I believe you can go now."

Sam's laughter abated immediately when he heard the ice in Castiel's voice, and he turned back toward Dean with an apologetic look on his face. "Look man, I didn't mean to laugh, it just kinda surprises me is all."

Dean pointed toward the door, his expression somewhere between relief and anger. "Out."

"I'm going, I'm going."

When Sam had gone, shutting the door behind him, Castiel sat on the bed beside Dean, who had laid his head in his hands with a world-weary sigh. He picked up the scarf, rubbing it between his fingers and immediately noticing it was even softer than the one he'd had before. The colors were brighter, too, and it looked much sturdier than the other one had been. Castiel smiled broadly, slipping it around his neck and putting a hand on Dean's shoulder so the hunter would look at him.

"You gonna tease me too?" Dean asked warily, expecting some sort of wise-crack Sam might have taught Cas to make.

"And why would I do that? Being able to craft something with your hands is a valuable skill. It's what sets humans apart from animals, and it's what has kept humanity alive for thousands of years. The distinction between men's and women's work has only been around for a few centuries, Dean. There is nothing at all to be ashamed of."

Dean smiled and shook his head. Count on Cas to put everything in perspective. "So you like it? I figured since you missed that other scarf so much I could make another one for you, but if you don't like it we can just buy one."

"I love it," Cas answered softly, closing his eyes snuggling deeper into the scarf with a sigh of contentment. "Thank you, Dean. Maybe someday I'll learn to knit too, so I can make things like this for you."

Dean blushed a little, running his hand through his hair in embarrassment. "Yeah, well, uh… I could, y'know... teach you, if you want."

Castiel's eyes lit up immediately. "You would do that?"

"Sure," Dean said, already beginning to grow more comfortable with the idea. He picked up the knitting needles, handing them to Castiel along with a large ball of blue yarn. "Okay, so you're gonna use one color since two would be pretty hard for starters. The first thing you gotta do is…"

They spent the next several hours knitting in silence, Dean finishing the final tassel on Cas's scarf while it was still around his neck and Cas trying valiantly to knit properly and sort of managing to do it. By the time they both dozed off, side-by-side on the bed in a mess of yarn fragments, Dean wasn't afraid of talking to Cas about his hobby anymore. In fact, he was actually kind of proud of it. And to think, it was all just because of one ratty old scarf.


	9. Bells

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

A loud clap of thunder woke Castiel from a sound sleep in the middle of the night, leaving him panting while his startled heart raced and he came to full awareness. He still wasn't completely used to experiencing weather as a human, and every so often these early-winter thunderstorms would leave him fairly frightened before he remembered what was happening and calmed himself down. Looking over at the other side of the bed, he saw Dean stir ever so slightly, snorting once and nestling his face further into the pillow but not actually waking. Sighing and rubbing his eyes, Cas decided to let him sleep, silently slipping out of bed and brushing a few remaining pieces of yarn off of his T-shirt and flannel pants.

The once-angel padded softly down the hall, shivering slightly when his bare feet made contact with the cold tile in the kitchen. He knew exactly what he was looking for, and before long he was curled up on the couch in the main room of the bunker, a steaming mug of hot chocolate clutched in his hands and a blanket laying over his lap while he watched a show on the animal channel. He was sure to keep the volume off, though, reading the captions instead so as not to wake the Winchesters or Kevin.

Castiel loved the animal channel, loved learning about all of God's creatures now that he was one of them himself. He could spend hours watching the programs they showed, and his favorites were the ones that showed newborn kittens and tracked their progress as they grew up into lovely, colorful cats. Dean often teased him about it, since the older Winchester hated cats, but Cas didn't care. Dean also didn't really care for dogs, while Sam was very fond of them. It was something about Dean they'd all just gotten used to. Tonight's program was a movie about a man named Ted who had inherited a team of sled dogs from his mother, and his attempts to train them for the big race. It was fairly funny, and Castiel found the dogs adorable – especially, and ironically, the black one named Demon.

He had just started to nod off when he heard something out of place – a sort of _scritch, scritch, scritch_ing – coming from somewhere across the room. He sat up, turning off the T.V. in case that was the source of the noise, and listened carefully. For several seconds, there was nothing. Then, just as Castiel was beginning to think he'd imagined it, he heard it again; it sounded like something tiny scratching on the wood of the front door. Warily, he stood up, grabbing the nearest hard object he saw, which in this case happened to be a fireplace poker. Slowly, carefully, he opened the door, preparing to swing at whatever was on the other side. But as soon as he opened it fully, he froze and stared.

There on the threshold, wet and shivering, was a tiny black-and-white cat. As soon as the light from the living room spilled out of the doorway she rushed inside, pressing herself against Castiel's leg and staring hopefully up at him with the brightest blue eyes besides his own he had ever seen.

"_Meow,_" it said softly, its tiny pink tongue visible when it opened its mouth.

"Umm… Hello, there…" he said uncertainly, putting the poker down and staring at the cat as she shook herself off and continued to rub against his leg.

The cat looked up at him again, standing on her hind legs so she could put her front paws on his leg.

"_Mew._"

"I don't understand what you want," Castiel said helplessly. The cat looked up at him again, and if cats could sigh Castiel was pretty sure that's exactly what she would have done.

"_Meeeew._"

"Uh… Do you… Want to be held, perhaps?" He reached down and scooped up the cat, holding her gingerly against his chest as if she might break. She immediately burrowed into his shirt, seeking out the warmth of his dry body and purring loudly. "Okay. That's good. Are you hungry?" The cat ignored him, yawning and cuddling deeper into his chest with a slow, sleepy blink of her eyes. Castiel yawned too, and found himself smiling at her. "Well, I can't exactly throw you out in the rain, now can I? The Winchesters didn't throw _me_ out when I had nowhere to go; it wouldn't be fair of me to do it to you."

The cat simply yawned again, and Castiel made up his mind. As quietly as possible, he carried her back to Dean's bedroom, climbing back into bed with her still in his arms. When he turned over to snuggle against Dean's chest, the hunter threw his arm over him and kept snoring softly, completely oblivious to the presence of the furry creature that had just curled herself against the small of Castiel's back. Before long, Castiel had fallen asleep too, confident that whatever else he needed to do for this cat could be dealt with after dawn.

* * *

_Ching…_

"Mmmmph?" Dean muttered, stirring but not opening his eyes.

_Ching… Ching…_

Dean rolled over so that he was lying on his stomach, trying not to let himself wake up fully. Dreaming about jingle bells – that was definitely a new one, and it was getting annoying.

_Ching ching ching ching ching ching ching!_

"Fine, Cas, fine," Dean mumbled, opening his eyes and rolling over to look for the source of the noise. His vision was still blurry, so when he found himself staring into a pair of enormous blue eyes he assumed it was just his angel. "It's a little early in the morning for this, y'know. Haven't even had my coffee yet." He closed his eyes and leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on – wait. Castiel's lips didn't feel like that. Dean's eyes popped open, and he flinched back when he saw that the eyes belonged not to Castiel, but to a little black-and-white cat, who at the moment had given up playing with one of the jingle bells from the miniature tree in their room and was instead kneading her paws into his chest, purring the whole time.

"Holy crap!" he shouted as he jumped out of bed, flinging the cat off of him so fast that she fell off of the bed and onto her back, staring up at him with a look of absolute betrayal. He didn't even care; his nose was already starting to itch, and he knew a sneeze or ten wouldn't be far off.

"Wha – Dean, what?" Castiel stammered, shooting up in bed at the sound of the hunter's shout.

"There's a friggin' cat in here! Who let a cat in?!"

Castiel's face fell a little. "Umm… Well, that might have been me…"

Dean gaped at him. "Cas, _why_ would you bring a cat in here? You know I don't like… don't li… d – _Hiiishuu!_"

"Bless you."

"Thagks, Cas," he said thickly, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "So I ask again, why'd you bring a cat in – _Etchoo!_ – in here?"

"I found her outside in the rain last night, soaked to the bone. She came here looking for help. I couldn't just turn her away, Dean; she would have died out there." The implications of that weren't lost on Dean, and he took one look at the sad puppy eyes Cas was giving him and sighed, laying his head in his hands before reaching out to stroke the cat with one of them. Well, this was the whole point of the season, right?

"Have you thought of a name for her yet?"

Castiel's eyes lit up. "Dean, does this mean –"

"Yeah. It means I'm gonna have to buy a crap ton of Claritin while I'm out getting cat food and stuff today. So anyway, what about a name?"

Castiel thought about it while he watched the little furball, who had gone back to playing with the jingle bell she had pulled from the tree and dragged up onto the bed. "How about… Bells?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I kinda like that for a cat. Bells it – _Keshoo!_ – Bells it is, then."

Castiel hugged him tightly, giving him a long kiss without any concern for the way his nose ran the entire time. "Thank you so much, Dean."

"You're welcome. _Achoo!_"


	10. Pageant

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

"_Meow._"

Sam groaned and turned over in bed, pushing the cat away from him when she tried to rub against his face. "No, Bells."

"_Meeow._" Bells was undeterred, returning to her place against Sam's neck and face immediately. Sam yawned and glared at the cat without any actual anger. He was still in complete shock that his brother had allowed her to stay in the bunker, especially indoors, but he wasn't about to complain. She might not be a dog, but the kitten was downright adorable, and extremely affectionate to everyone from the second she met them. Speaking of which…

"_No_, Bells," Sam said with a tiny smile, pushing her off again and watching as the cat seemed to try to puzzle out the concept of "no." Then, just when it seemed she'd gotten it, she went right back to rubbing on him, and he groaned and flopped back on the pillow. "Fine. Do what you want, then."

"No way, Sister," a voice said from beside Sam, and the hunter's eyes shot open immediately. "That's _my_ Samsquatch you're gettin' all friendly with." Bells gave Gabriel an indignant hiss at being pushed away from Sam, and the Archangel scowled at her. "Yeah, well _*hiss*_ to you too!"

Sam chuckled, sitting up and giving Gabriel a peck on the cheek when Bells had strode out of the room with what could only be described as a cat's version of a huff. "'Morning, Gabriel."

"'Morning, Sammy. You miss me?"

"Nah. I got my new girlfriend Bells to keep me company," he said with a teasing smile.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and pulled Sam into an embrace. "Yeah, right. She's not your type."

"Mmm… Welcome back…" Sam mumbled sleepily, leaning against Gabriel while the angel gently teased his long hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Glad to be back. Oh, and I heard Dean and Cas talking about a 'pageant' earlier. That mean anything to you?"

Sam's eyes popped open and he turned around look at the clock. "Oh, man, it's already noon! Why'd you let me sleep so late?"

"Because you're really cute when you're asleep," Gabriel said with a shrug.

Sam blushed. "Oh. Well, uh, anyway, there's a Christmas pageant at the local school at one o'clock today that we're all going to see." Gabriel cocked an eyebrow, and Sam backtracked a little. "Long story, but Cas made friends with some lady and her kid at the grocery store a few months ago, and he got invited to the pageant at the school. We figured we'd go along too, since only Kevin's actually seen one of these before. You're welcome to come, too, if you want."

"Sure," Gabriel said with a shrug as he conjured up a bar of chocolate and took a bite. "Sounds like it could be interesting."

"Okay, well," Sam said, pulling on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt while he talked. "Just promise me you won't pull any pranks on the kids."

"Oh, don't worry, I –"

"Not their parents, either."

"Aww, man…"

* * *

Just before one o'clock, everyone from the bunker piled out of the Impala, heading single-file into the small school auditorium. It was dimly lit, just bright enough so that people could see the aisles between their seats while still giving most of the light to the stage. Aside from a few people coughing and sneezing every so often, it was almost completely silent. There was a woman standing up on stage, and as soon as everyone had taken their seats – Cas and Dean sitting side-by-side like Sam and Gabriel while Kevin sat on the end – she began to speak.

"Welcome to the Lebanon Elementary Christmas Pageant," she said warmly, addressing them all with a sweep of her arm. "Today we tell the story of the birth of Jesus Christ, the reason for the holiday we call Christmas. So without further ado, let's begin."

The curtain rose behind her, and a young boy stepped up to the microphone. He began to tell the story of how Jesus' birth came to be, and how it was prophesied long before it happened. Three "prophets" walked up onstage, and relayed the message that a Messiah would soon be born, and the townspeople rejoiced. Then the narrator began again.

"And one day, when Mary was alone, God sent his angel Gabriel to appear before her."

Gabriel perked up in his seat, watching in amusement as a tiny child wearing a white robe and fluffy wings approached the girl playing Mary.

"Hail, Mary," the Gabriel-boy said. "The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women." Dean snickered and Gabriel and Castiel both elbowed him in the ribs. "Be not afraid, for you are special in my Father's eyes. And behold, he has chosen you to bring forth a son. His name shall be Jesus, and he will be called the Son of God. And his Kingdom shall have no end."

The child playing Mary smiled up at "Gabriel," nodding slowly. "I will gladly carry out God's will."

The narrator continued, telling of how Gabriel had come to Joseph and explained what would happen to Mary, and not to be afraid of what God had planned for them. The "Gabriel" exited the stage, and a bunch of little angels came out to change the stage props. When they had finished, there were several fake farm animals sitting around, as well as a manger with a silent Mary and Joseph standing over it, smiling.

While they stood still in their positions, the narrator told the story of Caesar Augustus, and of how Joseph had taken Mary from Nazareth to Bethlehem only to find that there was no room at the inn. "One innkeeper, feeling pity for them, finally allowed them to take shelter in the stable, and there Jesus was born and laid in the soft hay of a manger. Immediately afterward, the angel Gabriel came to the shepherds to share the news with them. But the shepherds had never seen an angel before, and they trembled in fear of him."

"And rightly so…" Dean mumbled under his breath.

"Shh!" Castiel hissed.

"Be not afraid," the child playing Gabriel said in a surprisingly strong voice. "For I bring wonderful news! Today, in the town of Bethlehem, a child was born. He will grow up to be the King of all Kings, and this world's Savior! You will find him lying in a manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes."

The "shepherds" thanked Gabriel and departed for Bethlehem.

The next part of the play went quickly – the shepherds gathered around the manger, and the three Wise Men, having followed the North Star for several weeks, brought their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Immediately afterward, the entire cast began to sing "Silent Night," and most of the parents and relatives joined in quietly as well. Kevin sang too, since he knew the words, and Dean and Sam resolved to learn the words someday so they could actually sing at Christmastime. Then the narrator spoke one more time.

"And that is the story of Christmas, and the birth of our Savior. We hope you've enjoyed it, everyone. Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!" the audience echoed, and all the kids on stage joined hands and took a bow. Everyone clapped for them, and when Sam looked over at them, he saw that Castiel and Gabriel were both beaming while they applauded. Before long, everyone began to file out of their seats, but Castiel wanted to wait for the mother and son he had befriended to come away from the stage. Eventually they did, and Gabriel was shocked to notice that it was the kid who had played him.

"Good job up there, Brian," Dean said when the kid approached them.

"Yes," Castiel agreed with a warm smile. "You should be proud."

"Really?" the kid asked, his eyes shining with pride at the adults' praise.

"You bet," said Gabriel, surprising Sam when he knelt down in front of the boy with a bright smile. "You played God's angel very well. I bet he'd be proud of you."

"Thanks, Mister!" The kid stood up and rushed over to his mom, who had just broken away from a large group of women and come to talk to them. "Didja hear what they said, Mom? They said I was a really good Gabriel!"

"That's great, Sweetie," his mother said, giving him an affectionate hug and turning to the group of men. "Thank you all for coming. It really means a lot. Oh, but I don't think I've met you before," she said to Gabriel.

"This is my brother," Castiel said immediately. "He travels a lot, but he was in town so we invited him along."

"Oh, I see. Well nice to meet you, Mr…?"

"Gabriel. Just call me Gabriel."

* * *

"I can't believe she thought I was kidding!" Gabriel said with a sigh as he flopped down onto the couch. Sam chuckled and sat down beside him while Dean outright laughed. Castiel, who was feeling very tired all of a sudden, had simply sat down and decided to stay out of it entirely, as had Kevin.

"Well, I mean you angels don't exactly look the way people think you do," Sam said, patting Gabriel's shoulder sympathetically. "The first thing I think of when someone says 'Christmas Angel' isn't exactly a Trickster chowing down on chocolate, you know?"

Gabriel sighed again. "Yeah, I know. And I could do that whole 'white-robe, golden wings, playing the harp' thing any time I wanted, but that's not really _me_ anymore. Times have changed."

"Yeah, and that's fine with me," Sam said, letting Gabriel lean on his shoulder and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. "I don't really go for white robes and harps anyway."

"So you think we'll do this again next year?" Dean asked, returning from the kitchen where he'd gone to retrieve beers for everyone.

"I hope so," Gabriel said enthusiastically. "That kid was a better me than me!"

Sam smiled, hugging his angel tighter with a fond smile. "No one's a better you than you."

* * *

**A/N: Yay, Gabriel's back! He should be around for most of the remainder of this story. I just like him too much to send him away!**


	11. Sick Day

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

**A/N: I've managed to come down with a head cold that morphed into a chest cold, which combined with asthma, finals week at the university, and almost no sleep, means I'm feeling pretty miserable right now. Since winter is sick season, I've decided to give a couple of these guys a little bug too, so we can suffer together. There's lots of Destiel fluff in this chapter, and I didn't write anything too gross, but maybe don't read while eating if you get squeamish.**

* * *

One of the things Dean loved most about sharing a room with Castiel was waking up next to him every morning. The ex-angel was clingy when he was asleep, and he always liked to cuddle up to Dean's side and lay his head up against his chest or neck. The hunter used to hate words like "cuddle," but there wasn't really anything else he could call it. He and Cas functioned as security blankets for each other, providing mutual warmth and stability during the night and keeping away the terrible nightmares they were both prone to having when alone.

So when Dean woke up to find Castiel's side of the bed empty, he immediately knew something was wrong. Castiel had been very tired and a little lethargic by the time night had rolled around yesterday, so Dean would have expected him to sleep like a rock. He looked over at the clock on the nightstand: 3:42 a.m., too early for anyone to be awake yet. So where was he? After listening for a moment, Dean realized the shower and the sink were both on in the bathroom. Weird. When he sat up, he could see the light was on, too.

"What the hell?" He got up, slowly padding his way over to the door, and knocked softly. "Cas? You in there?"

A moment of silence, and then Castiel's voice floated shakily through the door. "De – Dean?"

Dean was alarmed to notice that the other man sounded afraid. "Yeah, Cas, it's me. What's –" He stopped talking when he heard the sound of retching from behind the door. A few seconds later he was at Cas's side, holding him steady while he hung his head over the toilet and became reacquainted with his dinner from last night. When he was finished, he slumped back against Dean's chest, panting exhaustedly and coughing at the irritating burn in his throat.

"I'm… sorry for waking you," he said weakly, his voice strained as if he was trying very hard not to be sick again; come to think of it, he probably was. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Aw, Cas, you shoulda woke me up. How long've you been feeling bad?"

"The clock said 3:15 when I decided to get up and come in here. Before that, it's hard to say."

Dean ran his fingers through Castiel's sweaty hair, pressing his lips to his forehead and drawing back at how hot it was. "Looks like you caught yourself a little stomach bug, Cas."

Castiel's face paled, and he lurched away from Dean to gag over the toilet again. Dean sighed and rubbed his back, wishing he could do more to help but knowing he couldn't make this stop. He knew Cas had never been sick before, so he hoped it didn't get as bad as some flus could be. When the vomiting stopped this time, Castiel's face was flushed, coloring his skin in interesting blotches of red and white, and there were tears in the corners of his eyes.

"I don't think I like stomach bugs, Dean. How do I release one once I've caught it?"

Dean chuckled softly, wetting a washcloth in the sink and using it to wipe Castiel's neck and face. "Sorry, Cas, it's gonna have to go away on its own, and that usually take a day or two. But if you just sit tight I'll go get you some medicine to help you feel a little better, okay?"

Castiel nodded, leaning back against the wall with his hands held over his aching belly. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and stood up to head for the medicine cabinet in the kitchen. "Alright," he said to himself when he reached it and started searching through the contents. "Now where did I put that damn Pepto-Bismol?"

"Stomach bothering you, Dean-o?"

Dean whirled around, heart racing as he instinctively prepared for combat, and then relaxed when he realized it was just Gabriel and Sam. "God, Gabriel, don't do that!"

Gabriel scowled. "Don't blaspheme, Dean."

"Fine, fine, sorry," Dean said with a roll of his eyes. Friggin' angels. "And no, I'm fine. _Cas_, though, not so much. Probably caught a bug at that school; kids are always germ-magnets. So why are you guys up, anyway?"

Sam shuffled out from behind Gabriel, rubbing his cherry-red nose with his sleeve. "Think I caud da flu, too…" he mumbled. "Could't sleeb. Gabe's getteeg bedicid for be so I cad… cad… _Keschh!_ _Heh-Eschh!_ Sleeb."

"What he said," Gabriel said with a sigh. "Not counting my short time on Doctor Sexy, I'm really not experienced with human diseases, Dean. But if I had to guess I'd agree with the flu diagnosis."

"Aw, jeez," Dean muttered, reaching up to feel Sam's forehead. Just as he'd expected, it was as hot as Castiel's. "Dude, you're cooking right now. Take some Tylenol and some Nyquil and get your ass back to bed." He reached for the bottles and handed them to Gabriel, along with a glass of water. "Make sure he takes these, okay? The dosing directions are on the bottles. If he gets any worse, you come get me, understand? I gotta go make sure Cas is doin' okay – he's never been sick before."

Gabriel nodded, his face solemn. "Take care of my brother, Dean, and I promise to take care of yours."

"Deal."

"Aww, you guys are so _*cough, cough*_ sweet," Sam mumbled, rubbing his nose again.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Dean said with a roll of his eyes. "Just go back to bed already. And quit using your sleeve to wipe your nose! It's so red your face looks like a damn candy cane, Rudolph."

"Fide, fide. Doh deed to be so bossy, Deed. _Heh-kschh! Eh-schh! Hehh… Keschh!_"

"Bed, now!"

"I'b goeeg, I'b goeeg."

As soon as Sam had stumbled back around the corner with Gabriel in tow, Dean raced back to his bedroom, his arms loaded with Pepto, ginger ale and saltine crackers, as well as a few Tylenol for the fever. When he heard Cas being violently sick again, though, he hurriedly set them down on the bed and rushed back into the bathroom. The sight he found was pitiful, and exactly what he'd hoped wouldn't happen when he left Cas alone.

The dark-haired man was slumped weakly over the rim of the toilet, head laying on his arms while he heaved and coughed up nothing but air and bile. He was so weak he was having to keep a white-knuckled grip on the toilet seat just so he didn't slide down to the floor, and it seemed he could barely gasp in a sobbing breath before he was full-body retching again, almost hyperventilating in between.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean muttered when Castiel began to slip downwards. He grabbed him around the waist with one arm to keep him upright, the other rubbing his back and shoulders in an attempt to calm him down. "Easy, Cas, easy. You're alright, just slow down your breathing, okay?"

"S-so I'm… not dy – ing?" Cas panted out between exhausted breaths.

"No way. Not on my watch," Dean said with a smile, keeping his hand on Cas's back until he could feel his breathing even out again. "You think you're done now?"

Cas thought about it for a moment and nodded, scrunching up his face at the unpleasant taste in his mouth. "I think so."

"Alright, then. Bed." Dean lifted him up slowly, carrying most of his weight while they made their way over to the bed, and then tucked him in under the warm comforter before sliding in beside him and taking the cap off of the Pepto-Bismol bottle. "Here," he said, offering the cap of pink liquid to Cas. "It doesn't taste great, but it should help you feel a little better. If you need it, though, there's a trashcan on your side of the bed."

Castiel nodded and tossed it back like a shot, grimacing at the chalky taste but not complaining. Then, with a weary sigh, he sank down next to Dean, laying his head on his chest. Dean wrapped an arm around him, gently rubbing his back as he began to drift off into an exhausted sleep.

For the rest of the day, Castiel and Dean stayed in bed, Castiel only getting sick twice more and being able to keep crackers and ginger ale down by that afternoon. Dean was there for him the entire time, serving as a trashcan-holder, ginger ale-fetcher, or human pillow, whatever the ex-angel needed at the time. When evening rolled around he was feeling worlds better, and when Dean returned after a brief trip to the kitchen, his eyes lit up at the bowl of tomato rice soup the hunter had brought in on a tray.

"I made some of this for Sam earlier, and I thought since you're doing good with the crackers we'd try something a little more substantial," Dean said quietly, setting the tray down on the bed and handing Castiel a spoon. "You think you can keep it down?"

"I think so. You cooked it, after all."

Dean smiled and shook his head. "You are somethin' else, Cas, you know that? Anyone else who'd been through the day you just had would be a gigantic whiny bitch about it, me included, and yet the first thing you think of is complimenting my cooking. How'd I luck out enough to find you?"

"Actually, I believe _I_ found _you_," Castiel said in a matter-of-fact tone, eating a spoonful of the soup and sighing in contentment when it immediately began to warm him up. "But there _is_ a cold spot in this bed that's too big for me to warm up alone…"

Dean laughed and shook his head. "Your wish is my command."

They spent the rest of the night curled up together, Bells at their feet, and despite the fact that he'd just gone through one of the least pleasant aspects of humanity, at that moment Castiel couldn't have felt any better.


	12. Christmas Movies

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

When Sam stumbled into the kitchen the morning after he and Castiel had gotten sick, he found his brother and the ex-angel in question already waiting for him. Both of them were drinking mugs of coffee with half-dissolved peppermint sticks poking out of the top, but as soon as they saw Sam they both stood and began trying to tend to him. Castiel strode over to the coffee pot to begin pouring some for Sam – he'd lived around the Winchesters long enough to know how both took their coffee – and Dean pulled out a chair for him, pushing it in once he'd sat down and slumped face-down onto the table with a tired sigh.

"How you feelin' today, Sammy?" he asked, smiling thankfully at Cas when he handed Sam a cup of peppermint coffee.

"A lot better thad I was," he said nasally. "Still cad't talk right, though. By doze is all stuffed up."

"Yeah, I can hear that," Dean said with a sympathetic grimace. "By the way, where's Gabriel? Wasn't he stuck to you like Velcro all day yesterday?"

"Yeah, but he said he had to leave ad go get subtheeg. Doh-eeg hib, it could be addytheeg."

"Alright, I've heard about all of that I can stand," Dean said suddenly, standing up and opening the medicine cabinet. He pulled out a box of decongestant, handing it to Sam with a no-nonsense look on his face. "Take one of these so you can breathe, okay? That stuff sounds really uncomfortable."

"Thagks."

"You're welcub," Dean mocked, taking a sip of his coffee. At almost the same instant, Gabriel reappeared right beside him, startling him so badly he accidentally inhaled the entire mouthful of hot liquid. Castiel sighed, reaching over and patting the hunter on the back while he coughed and wheezed like he was the one with the flu and not Sam.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked when Dean had finally managed to get his breath back.

The hunter nodded, hitting his chest with his fist a couple of times and clearing his throat. "I'm good, thanks Cas. But God, that hurt." The coffee had really burned going down, and Dean pushed his mug away disgustedly; he wasn't in the mood for it anymore.

"That was impolite, Gabriel," Castiel said, not even bothering to scold Dean for the blasphemy while he gave an icy glare to his brother.

Gabriel smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck in a very human gesture of nervousness. "Yeah, sorry about that, Dean. I sorta figured you'd be used to it after having Cassie-boy around for so long."

Castiel scowled at the nickname but didn't say anything.

"Yeah, you'd think," Dean said, chuckling at the memory of how many times Castiel had nearly scared him out of his skin appearing just like Gabriel had. "Anyway, what's up, Gabe? Sam said you went to go 'get subtheeg,' so what's the 'subtheeg?'"

Sam glared at Dean from across the table, and the older Winchester just smirked.

"Oh, yeah. Almost forgot." Gabriel reached into the inside of his winter coat, which he wore out of fashion and not necessity, and produced a stack of three DVDs. "I picked these up at that movie rental place down the street. Figured even if you two had seen a few Christmas movies before there was no way Cas had, and since Samsquatch is pretty much down for the count it's a good day for watching some."

"Souds like a good idea to be," Sam said muzzily, leaning back in his chair with a tired sigh. "Cad't probise I'll stay awake the whole tibe, though."

"Don't worry. I'll just shock you awake if you need it."

"You touch be with addythig so buch as _resebleeg_ electricity add I'll badish you right back to Heavedd."

"Alright, alright. What about –"

"Doh cold water, either."

Dean chuckled, and he and Castiel stood from their chairs in unison. "Alright then. Movie time."

* * *

The Winchesters had invited Kevin to join in the movie-watching, but he politely refused, having seen most Christmas movies too many times to count already. Sam did manage to stay awake through most of the first one – _A Christmas Story_ – which he had seen when he and Dean were young. Dean remembered a lot of it, and at the part where the kid got his tongue stuck to a frozen telephone pole he burst out laughing.

"Hey… Remember when I convinced you to try licking one of the Impala's doors after that big snowstorm, Sammy?" he asked between breaths of laughter.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Dad was _thrilled_ at having to peel me off the driver's side door right before he had to go on a big hunt. He was so pissed I'm pretty sure he woulda just dragged me down the road by my tongue if he didn't think it'd stop me from being able to say the exorcisms."

At Castiel's disapproving look, Dean shook his head and patted the ex-angel's shoulder. "It's a _joke_, Cas. Dad wouldn't have done anything like that."

"I _know_ that!" he answered indignantly. "I just didn't realize how much you resembled my own older brother when you were young, Dean. It's a little unnerving."

"Don't pretend you don't love it, Cassie," Gabriel said with a mocking grin. "Anyway, shh! Pay attention to the movie."

They sat in silence for the next hour, and by the time the credits rolled Sam had fallen completely asleep, snoring through his now less-congested nose and drooling on Gabriel's shoulder. Castiel had liked that one a lot, although he didn't quite understand how exactly everything in the movie related to Christmas, or the significance of the gun the boy wanted so badly. Dean had tried to explain it, but it hadn't worked; some things were just impossible to tell Cas until he figured them out on his own.

The next movie on Gabriel's list was the old Claymation version of _Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer_, which he woke Sam up to watch too, claiming it was an important film for anyone who was the least bit interested in Christmas. Dean wasn't so sure about that, but if nothing else he was sure he'd get a kick out of watching Castiel's reaction to it. Sure enough, the ex-angel was enraptured by the crudely-animated figures from the very start, over-analyzing Rudolph's story and asking Dean how this "Santa" fellow related to Christmas. Dean satisfied him by saying he'd tell him later; that was too big a can of worms to get into right now.

Castiel also kept finding parallels between the film and his experiences the real world. Hermey the elf was a lot like Sam, wanting to do something different than what he was raised to do and running away when he got tired of being told who to be and how to think. Rudolph was "broken" from birth, shunned because of something that made him different from his brothers and sisters, a lot like Castiel himself. And, like the Winchesters and Castiel, Hermey and Rudolph eventually became heroes for following what they believed and utilizing the talents everyone had once ridiculed them for.

When Castiel explained all of this to them while the credits were rolling, Gabriel chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Trust you to find some great profound truth in a children's movie from the sixties, Castiel."

Cas blushed a little, and Sam smiled. "It is kind of true though, Cas. And thanks for comparing me to Hermey and –"

"Not the Abominable Snowman?" Dean finished. "Why waste our breath when we were all thinking it anyway?"

"Oh, hardy-har-har. Anyway, Gabe, what's the next movie?"

"You're gonna love this, Samsquatch. I snagged it from that other dimension you guys visited a while back." He held up the case for them to see: _Thomas Kinkade's Christmas Cottage_.

"Thomas Kinkade? Isn't he some kinda Christmas painter or somethin'?" Dean asked, not understanding why they would love a movie about a painter.

"That's not what I mean! Look at it closer!" Gabriel said impatiently.

They did, and Sam sighed and flopped back against Gabriel's shoulder exhaustedly when he saw what looked like his own face staring back at him from the cover. "Starring _Jared Padalecki_. Greeeat."

"Oh-ho, that's _awesome_!" Dean said with an almost malicious grin. "Sammy starring in a Christmas movie? This is gonna be good."

"Wait just a minute there, Dean," Sam suddenly said with an equally devilish look. "If you do that, I might just ask Gabriel to go snag us a few movies starring _Jensen Ackles_ and see how they stack up. Maybe one of those s_oap operas_ you saw playing in his trailer?"

Dean's face fell. "You wouldn't, would ya Gabe?"

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow at him. "Does 'Trickster who happens to be the extremely attractive Sasquatch's boyfriend' mean anything to you?"

"Point taken. Okay, so I'd say we can skip the last one. It's probably time for lunch anyway, right?" With that, Dean stood up and made his way to the kitchen, Cas close behind in case he could help in some way.

When they were alone, Sam turned to Gabriel and smiled, leaning into his chest while he spoke his next words.

"So how about we go watch that Thomas Kinkade movie now?"

"You sure? What if I decide he's cuter than you?"

"I'd find a way to kill him. He's an actor, not a hunter. Wouldn't stand a chance."

"You know it, Samsquatch," Gabriel said with an affectionate kiss to Sam's temple. "You know it."


	13. Frost

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

**A/N: Hey, everyone! Sorry for the almost-late update. I struggled a little with this chapter, mostly because I've been running on about four hours of sleep a night for the last five days. Please tell me your thoughts on this chapter - I'd love to hear it's not as bad as I think it is! ;)**

* * *

Castiel had never completely understood Kevin Tran. The prophet was a little off-the-wall sometimes, much like the Winchesters but somehow very different. He didn't dislike the boy, though, not even a little. He had first encountered Kevin back when he was still a few flowers short of a bouquet, soon after he had taken on Sam's hallucinations of Lucifer to repair the damage he had done to the younger Winchester. Despite the fact that he had obviously scared Kevin at first, the young prophet had come to accept him fairly easily, telling the ex-angel he was willing to forget the unflattering first impression as long as Cas swore to "forget the fact that I screamed like a girl when you popped up next to me in the car."

Cas had agreed immediately, and the two had become friends very quickly. Kevin didn't seem to mind the fact that Castiel had essentially failed as his guardian angel, and he became a sort of guardian for the new human instead whenever the Winchesters weren't around. He had taught Castiel many things, such as how to keep the bunker clean, sort laundry successfully (most of the time), and operate his cell phone and a strange contraption called a "tablet computer," which Kevin had had to emphasize was _not_ related in any way to the Demon and Angel Tablets.

So today when Castiel came out of the laundry room with a stack of towels and spotted Kevin making an obvious effort to breathe all over the frost-covered windows, he wasn't all that surprised. It was probably just another thing about humanity he didn't understand yet, and if anyone could tell him what it meant it would be Kevin. He put the towels down on a table in the hall, approaching Kevin and watching him until he abruptly startled and spun around.

"Oh, it's you, Cas," he said breathlessly, obviously having expected something much more sinister. "We need to get you a bell or something."

"I have Bells already," Cas deadpanned, not understanding why Kevin would want him to have a second cat.

"I just meant… Look, never mind. Did you need something?"

"I saw you breathing on the windows and wondered what the purpose of it was. Do they need to be kept warm?"

Kevin laughed. "No, man, it's just something to do when you're bored and it's cold outside. Look." He breathed on the window again, fogging it up until it was almost opaque, and then drew the figure of a tiny stick-person with wings that was probably meant to be an angel. "See? You can draw whatever you want, and then when you want to start over you just breathe over your drawing to erase it."

"Interesting. Where did you learn to do that?"

"Most kids do it when they're little. But when I went on a school trip with my girlfriend a while back, we spent most of the bus ride there drawing on the windows for each other. She was crazy for languages, so I wrote her all kinds of messages in English, Spanish, Chinese, even Latin. She thought it was really romantic."

"Romantic, hmm? Maybe I'll have to give it a try too, since Dean seems to be a little bored today, himself."

"What do you think you'll draw?"

"I don't know. I've never drawn anything but Enochian sigils before, to be honest."

"Oh, well uh… I'm sure you'll figure it out. Good luck, Cas."

"Thank you, Kevin." With that, Castiel departed for somewhere unknown, leaving Kevin to watch the place where he had been with equal parts amusement and confusion.

* * *

Dean was seriously beginning to think the bunker was haunted by the ghost of Castiel's grace or something. Everywhere he went, he was finding strange strings of symbols drawn into the frost on the windows. He guessed them to be Enochian, based on the ones he'd seen before, but he didn't recognize any of their meanings. He also couldn't seem to find Castiel anywhere. He'd thought the ex-angel might be waiting for him in their room at one point, since after he had gotten out of the shower he'd found another of the symbols drawn on the foggy bathroom mirror, but still the man was nowhere to be found.

"This is really friggin' weird," Dean muttered to himself as he made his way down the hall to the main room of the bunker. When he reached the middle of the hallway he froze again, glaring at yet another set of symbols that had been drawn on the foggy window. Enough was enough already; he was going to get to the bottom of this. "Gabriel!" he shouted. "Get your feathery Archangel ass down here!"

"You rang?"

"GAH!" Dean shouted, whirling around when Gabriel tapped him on the shoulder from behind. "Don't _do_ that! Sheesh! Anyway, I need your help here. Are these symbols Enochian?"

"Yup," Gabriel said with barely a glance at them.

"Okay…" Dean sighed, shaking his head tiredly. "That's probably not good. Why would there be Enochian symbols all over the windows unless… You don't think Cas is trying to start some kind of ritual behind my back, do you?"

Gabriel snorted and glared at him. "Oh, please. Do you honestly have so little trust in him that you think he'd _ever_ do that to you now, Dean-o? One, these would have to be drawn in blood to actually have any effect at all, and two, they aren't even the kind of sigils you'd use in a ritual."

"So what _are_ they, then?" Dean said, relieved that he had had no reason to suspect Cas of anything and feeling like a jerk for even thinking it.

"Here's an idea: why don't you ask my brother? I'm pretty sure that's what he wants."

"Yeah, and that'd be an awesome idea if I could _find_ him. I've been looking everywhere already! Do you know –" But Gabriel was already gone. Dean sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Friggin' angels. Forget Gabriel, even the _human_ angel's drivin' me crazy today!" He made his way to the kitchen, hoping there was still some coffee in the pot at noon. Luckily there was, and when Dean poured himself a cup and turned back around, he immediately discovered Castiel's whereabouts.

He stood outside the kitchen window, blowing on the glass and fogging it up before beginning to draw the first part of a complicated set of symbols on it. The moment he saw Dean, though, he stopped, blushing a little and giving the hunter a nervous smile. Dean made his way to the window in two quick strides, pulling it open so he could talk to Castiel.

"Cas, what the hell are you doin' out there? It's freezing!"

"Yes, I know. I thought that was desirable when trying to draw shapes in the frost."

"Trying to – Okaaay, but _why_ are you trying to draw shapes in the frost?"

"I… I thought it would be romantic if I left pictures on the glass where you would find them. Was I wrong to think so?"

Once again, Castiel's sadly shining blue eyes reduced Dean to a puddle of goo, and he sighed and shook his head. "No, Cas, you weren't wrong. I just… What did you draw, exactly?"

"They're Enochian phrases. Each one I've left you so far means something different, but the one in the hallway says '_Nonci chisa in limlal._'"

"Okay, I think understood part of that," Dean said with an apologetic grin. "'_Nonci chisa_' means 'you are,' right?"

"Yes. And '_in limlal_' means 'mine treasure.'"

Dean smiled, a little embarrassed at his limited knowledge of Castiel's native tongue. "That's actually pretty awesome, Cas. What made you think of doing this?"

"Kevin suggested it earlier. He said his girlfriend once thought his writing in different languages was romantic, so I decided to write to you in the language I know best."

Dean leaned out of the window, pressing a soft kiss to Castiel's lips before helping him climb through into the kitchen. "Remind me to get Kevin a pie." He pulled Cas closer to him, rubbing his back and arms to bring some warmth back to the skin that had become slightly chilled even under a long-sleeved turtleneck. "You know you don't have to do things like this to impress me though, right? Just having you around is more than good enough for me."

Castiel beamed at him, shivering a little and kissing Dean on the cheek. "I know. I just thought it would be fun, _In Monons_."

"What's that mean?"

Castiel pointed to the half-finished symbols on the kitchen window, and then to Dean. "It means 'my heart.' You are _In Monons_, my heart."

Dean smiled, pulling Cas into a hug and speaking softly into his ear. "Is that my new nickname now?"

"It is if you like it."

"I love it, Cas."

Then Castiel smiled and whispered something in Dean's ear that he understood perfectly, and he smiled smugly as the once-angel dragged him back towards their warm, cozy bedroom.

"Remind me to get Kevin a _huge_ pie."

* * *

**All Enochian words used in this fic were taken from translation databases on the Internet. I do not know how to read or write it AT ALL, so I will not claim that I do.**


	14. Christmas Shopping

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

Dean was happy to be living in Lebanon. The town was extremely rural, with a population of only a few more than two-hundred people living there, and he never had to worry about nosy neighbors, Jehovah's Witnesses, or five o'clock traffic. The bunker had just about everything they'd ever need, except for food, and he could get that and anything else they wanted at the farmer's market or local grocery store. All of that was perfect – usually. But now, when it was ten days to Christmas Eve and he still hadn't bought any presents for anyone, he was starting to regret the fact that they lived in a town where the only places to shop were a few tiny grocery stores and a gas station.

That was how he, Sam, Castiel, Gabriel, and Kevin came to be riding together in the Impala, making the two-hour drive to the nearest mall in Salina, Kansas. Everyone was equipped with a fake credit card each, along with whatever scrap of paper they had chosen to write their shopping lists on so that no one else would see them, and Dean had even allowed them to play the Christmas station on the radio instead of his usual Black Sabbath and Metallica tapes. None of them knew any of the words except for Kevin, and he'd made it his personal mission to teach them the songs on the way. So far they'd only managed a few of the classics, but for the Winchesters and the nearly tone-deaf Castiel it was progress.

Finally, after navigating their way through the early-morning traffic in Salina, they arrived at the Central Mall and found a parking place relatively near the front. They could've gotten closer, but Dean didn't like the way the people next to the closest space parked. "Too close to it," he said. "They'll scratch Baby's doors getting in their little douchebag-y electric cars, I know it." Sam and Kevin just rolled their eyes, not saying a word as they got out and made their way to the entrance.

"Alright, we'll split up here and meet up at the food court at noon, got it?" Dean asked as soon as they got inside and gathered around the oversized Christmas tree in the center. Everyone nodded, and all but Castiel seemed extremely bored with the unnecessary repetition of the plan they'd discussed several times already, looking around at the myriad red-and-gold decorations while Dean spoke. "Okay. See you in a bit." He spun on his heel, ready to make his way over to Sears, when he felt someone grab his arm. It was Castiel, and Dean sighed and turned around to face him with a sly grin. "What's up, Cas? You can't come with me right now; I might be getting something for you."

"Right, I understand, but… I'm not really sure where to go," the ex-angel admitted in a hushed voice, as if worried someone might overhear and make fun of him. Dean chuckled and shook his head.

"Alright, c'mere." He led Cas over to the enormous map in the center of the floor, pointing to the tiny red star in the middle. "You know how to read a map, right? Just look here for whatever store you wanna go to and make your way there."

"Oh. Thank you, Dean," Castiel said with a tiny smile.

Dean smiled back, giving him a peck on the cheek and ignoring the few disapproving looks he got from the onlookers. "Any time." He looked down at Castiel's black trenchcoat, a present from Gabriel to replace his old one, and held up one of the ends of the loose belt. "And tie up your belt. You'll trip over those things if you're not careful."

"Okay. I'll see you in a couple of hours, _In Monons_."

"See ya, Cas."

* * *

So far, everything had gone according to plan for Sam. He'd found a new leather jacket for Dean, several boxes of imported chocolates for Gabriel at _Candyopolis_, a new smart-phone for Kevin at _Express Your Cell_, and several books, both fiction and non-fiction, for Castiel at _Books-a-Million_. He'd had all of the gifts wrapped in the stores, stashing them in one enormous bag so that it would be impossible for any of the others to see what he had gotten them.

He was heading back toward the Impala, hoping to stash the gifts in the trunk so he wouldn't have to carry them, when he was glomped from behind by Gabriel, nearly falling forward before he adjusted to the other man's weight and caught his balance.

"Whoa, hey!" he gasped out as the angel lowered himself to the ground and dashed around to hug Sam from the front. "What's with the spontaneous hugs all of a sudden?"

"Just give it a sec, Samsquatch. You'll figure it out."

He pressed himself closer to Sam, and the hunter's eyes widened when he felt himself being poked in the stomach by something on Gabriel's chest.

"Gabriel, what –" He lifted his hands to feel the hard object, ignoring the strange look he got from the woman a few feet away, and he immediately rolled his eyes when he realized what it was. "Please tell me that's a fake nipple ring."

"Nope. It's the real deal," Gabriel said proudly, wincing when Sam moved his hand a little too quickly. "And it's still sore, so be careful."

"What were you even – Why would you get a nipple piercing?!"

"I felt like it."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, that sounds about right for you. Alright, well, are you done shopping too?"

"Yup. I already took my stuff to the car since I can get there in an instant, and I figured I'd catch you on your way."

"Okay. Let's just –"

He stopped when he heard a man's frightened shout, followed by a string of what would probably have been curse words if they were in a language he understood. Gabriel immediately tensed beside him, his eyes getting wider by the second as he listened to the distressed words floating to them from the direction of the escalator.

"It's Castiel, Sam. Hurry!" Gabriel suddenly said, taking off so quickly that Sam had to race to keep up with him despite his significantly longer legs. When they reached the escalator, a crowd had already begun to gather, murmuring amongst themselves, and some were even laughing at the sight before them. At the very end of the set of mechanical stairs was Castiel, pinned to the floor on his back with most of his black trenchcoat pulled into the belt. It was caught so tightly that there was no way for him to slip out of it, pinning his arms straight out on either side, and maintenance employees were working to cut him free while he struggled helplessly, his blue eyes shining with fear while he continued to shout out guttural words in Enochian.

Dean was already there, keeping a hand on his shoulder and speaking softly to him to keep him calm, and Sam and Gabriel were at their side in a second, pushing past the security guards with a quick shout of "I'm his brother!" from each of them.

"Dean, what happened?" Sam asked quietly, watching out of the corner of his eye as Gabriel leaned down and whispered something in Castiel's ear; it seemed to calm him significantly, because he nodded to his brother and began speaking in plain English again immediately.

Dean scrubbed a hand down his mouth and jaw, a nervous habit he'd had for years, and hung his head tiredly. "We both finished shopping a little early, so we met up and decided to head to the Impala to put everything in before we went to the food court. But the belt on Cas's coat got caught in the escalator as soon as we stepped on it; it happened too fast for me to pull him out."

"Man, that's awful. At least it shut off before anything bad could happen."

Dean swallowed hard. "Please don't remind me of that right now, Sammy."

"Right. Sorry. But it looks like they've almost got him free."

Dean looked up and sure enough, Castiel was now held by only a few shreds of fabric. Within seconds they too were cut, and the ex-angel immediately sat up, clutching onto Dean and breathing hard. "You're okay, Cas," Dean said softly, standing up and pulling him closer while he patted his back reassuringly. "It's all good, you're fine."

"I know. I… That was very unexpected. Forgive me for causing such a scene, Dean. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"Don't you dare apologize, Cas. I'm just chalking this up to another reason I hate big cities and forgetting about it, so don't worry, okay?"

"Okay…"

It was clear Castiel wasn't buying it, especially with the number of onlookers who were still staring and whispering to themselves, and that made Dean angry for him.

"Alright, show's over!" he shouted, waving the people away. "He's fine, nothin' to see here, go back to your shopping!"

The crowd eventually dispersed, and the four of them made their way downstairs, Cas shedding the tattered remains of his coat, which at this point meant the neck and sleeves, and tossing them in the garbage. When they reached the food court, Kevin was there waiting for them, his bags sitting on the table in front of him while he ate from a plate of chicken and mashed potatoes.

"Whoa. What happened to you?" he asked when he noticed the way Castiel's hair was mussed and the oil stains that darkened his shirt and face.

"Not a word," Dean said fiercely, picking up Kevin's bags and motioning for him to bring the food and follow them to the car. "Not. A. Word."

As they made their way to the Impala, Dean decided maybe next year they should all just make each other's presents. It would probably be safer for all involved. He started the engine, and by the time they rolled out of Salina, everyone was in high spirits again, singing an out-of-tune version of "Let it Snow" while tiny white flakes drifted around the Impala and melted as soon as they touched the ground. Castiel retold the story of what had happened for Kevin, and although the prophet was sympathetic, he still laughed so hard that in the end he had all of them, including Cas, laughing too.

"_Yup, making each other's presents would be a lot safer,_" Dean thought as he sang along to the overly-cheerful music and heard everyone else stumbling over the words along with him. "_But it sure wouldn't be as much fun, either._"


	15. Wrapping Paper

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

"Wrapping presents should _not_ be this difficult," Castiel muttered to himself as he pried off yet another piece of tape he had accidentally stuck to his arm instead of the paper. At this rate he probably wouldn't have any arm hair left by the end of the day. He hissed in pain when he yanked it off, glaring down at the vast expanse of colorful tubes of paper lining the floor and the bed. "How do the Winchesters make this look so simple?"

Cas had been at this in his room for about two hours now, and considering there were only four people to wrap presents for that was pretty pathetic. There was a mountain of shredded, now-unusable paper sitting beside the bed; some was a pale blue with darker blue and silver snowflakes, and some a pale yellow with silver-winged angels all over it. Sam had offered to help, figuring that Castiel might have some difficulty since he hadn't had them wrapped in the stores, but the ex-angel had refused, wanting to be able to do that much himself.

Now, as he tossed aside yet another piece of paper he had cut too small to fit around the box containing Kevin's present, Castiel was beginning to regret that. He sighed, putting down the tape and stretching as he stood up from the bed. "Maybe if I leave and come back to it I'll improve a little."

He made his way out into the main room, not bothering to shut his door since no one but Dean would ever bother to go into his room and the older Winchester had sworn he wouldn't try to peek. The Winchesters, Gabriel, and Kevin were all seated around the television, watching a rerun of an _America's Funniest_ _Videos_ winter special and laughing aloud every few seconds. They immediately moved over once they saw him, giving him enough room to sit between Dean and Kevin on the long couch.

No one said anything for a while, content to just watch the many ways people managed to trip, slide in the snow, or fall off of their various sleds, snowboards, and skis on camera. Castiel was laughing as hard as the rest of them after a few minutes; since becoming human, he had developed more and more of a sense of humor, and now it didn't even faze Dean to see him cracking up beside him anymore. After a few minutes, though, Gabriel of course had to open his big mouth and remind Cas why he was out there in the first place.

"So, you manage to finish wrapping yet?" he asked, clearly already knowing the answer judging by the smug grin on his face.

Castiel sighed, slumping back and closing his eyes with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. "Not yet. I thought if I came out here and forgot about it for a while maybe it would get easier."

Gabriel snorted, shaking his head and sighing. "This is awesome. The ex-Angel of the Lord who still manages to look like he might smite someone at the drop of a hat is defeated by some glossy paper."

Castiel glowered at him. "Did I ever say I had admitted defeat?"

"No, but come on. It's been two hours for four presents. Just let Sam help you like he offered to."

"No!" Castiel nearly shouted. "I need to do this. It's… You wouldn't understand." How was he supposed to explain this to Gabriel, who still had his grace and could conjure up anything he wanted in the blink of an eye? Every time he achieved something new as a human, it reminded him that even without his grace he was still useful, could still be of value to the people around him. To admit defeat over something so tiny was not an option – not when he'd already managed to mess up the cookies, and the Christmas tree, and the escalator.

"Hey," Dean whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's cool. Sam was just offering to help; you don't have to say yes."

Castiel nodded, all of his frustration immediately melting away. Like always, Dean understood him almost better than he understood himself. That was no surprise, though; the older Winchester was almost exactly like Castiel in that regard, constantly needing to prove his own usefulness to himself and being more likely to die than admit he couldn't do something. Although in Dean's case, the things he was trying to accomplish were usually bigger than wrapping presents or successfully baking cookies.

"Right. I'm sorry for losing my temper, Gabriel. That was unnecessary."

Gabriel smiled and slapped him on the back. "No need for apologies. I wouldn't be doing my job as an older brother if I didn't make you lose your temper at least once a day. In fact, I already have a few ideas for how to piss you off tomorrow."

Sam punched him lightly on the shoulder, rolling his eyes. "Don't give Dean any ideas, Gabe. Cas just managed to train him into a civilized human being."

"Hardy-har," Dean said loudly, standing up to head to the kitchen and fetch beers for everyone. "I can guarantee you being around Cas for long periods of time has made me anything but civilized." He immediately halted, blushing from his neck to his ears when he realized the implications of that statement. "Uh… That came out wrong. I meant to say –"

"Just stop there, please," Kevin said with a pained expression on his face. "You put your foot any farther in your mouth and you'll need surgery to get it out."

Dean made a distressed sound in the back of his throat, tossing his hands up in the air and walking to the kitchen. "Everyone's crazy around here! Everyone!"

At that moment, as if she had been waiting for him to say that, Bells rushed into the room, meowing shrilly and running around in circles as she tried to dislodge the pieces of wrapping paper and tape that had become stuck to her in Castiel's room. In less than five seconds she had run across the room, up the couch and Kevin's legs, and onto the poor prophet's face, where she sat with her claws digging into his chin and neck while she trembled with fear of whatever had her by the back.

"Ow! Ow! Bells, ow!" Kevin yelped while Castiel stood and immediately began extricating the cat's claws from his skin.

"No, Bells," Castiel scolded softly, the way one scolds a baby who does not really understand what they've done wrong. "You shouldn't hurt Kevin, he's your friend."

The tiny cat wriggled in his hands, still terrified and trying to free herself from the grip of the paper and tape. Castiel immediately began working it off of her fur, being as gentle as possible and trying not to pull out any more of her hair than absolutely necessary. When he was finished, she jumped out of his arms and landed next to the pile of paper, hissing at it and marching away with her head and tail held high in the air, almost as if to say, "None of you saw anything."

For a few moments, everyone was completely silent, watching Castiel as he stared forlornly at the mess his terrible wrapping skills had left in the middle of the floor. Finally, the ex-angel sighed, turning to Sam with a resigned look on his face.

"I think I'd like your help now, if it's not too late."

Sam chuckled, still staring at the pile of shredded paper in disbelief, and shook his head. "Sure, Cas." Then he turned to Dean, his face completely serious. "I'm definitely gonna need another beer for this one."


	16. Ice Skating

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

"Sammy, are you sure you're up for this?" Dean asked as he reached down to lace up the ice skates on his feet, slapping Sam on the knee after he was done. "We wouldn't want you breaking one of those spider-legs of yours after you just got back to a hundred percent."

"No need to worry about that. It may have been a while, but I've done this before," Sam said with a smirk, lacing up his own skates and standing up on the blades with practiced ease. He smiled and reached over to pat Dean on the head. "Just try to keep up, _little brother_."

Dean glowered at him. "Oh, you think you're so good? Just watch and see how it's done, bitch."

"Jerk." With that, he stood up and made his way toward the ice rink, where Castiel and Gabriel were already waiting for them.

Everyone but Kevin had decided to come to one of the two ice skating rinks in Salina today, since it was only a couple of hours from the bunker and they were all a little stir-crazy after weeks with nothing to hunt. The prophet said he'd rather not risk turning himself into a pile of broken bones, and no one had tried to force him to come along. They all knew he had been spending more time at the local library than usual, and it probably had a lot to do with that cute little librarian's assistant who was almost exactly his same age. It was nice to see him getting back into the dating game after all he'd been through in the last couple of years, so if he wanted to go spend time with a girl the Winchesters certainly weren't about to stand in his way.

When Sam and Dean reached the edge of the ice rink, Sam immediately stepped onto the ice, testing out his balance and then slowly gliding over to Gabriel's side. Castiel was obviously not as confident as his brother, because instead of standing in the middle of the ice like Sam and Gabriel he was pressed up as close to the wall as he could get, knuckles white where he gripped the side for balance. When Dean saw this, he smiled reassuringly, patting Cas's head from the other side of the wall.

"What's the matter, Cas? Not a fan of ice?"

The ex-angel glared at Dean, obviously not appreciative of the teasing at all. "It's not the ice specifically. I just wish my feet would get a grip. I never had to worry about this back when I had my grace, since I could walk on water or even air back then if I wanted to."

"Yup," Gabriel said cheerfully, skating backwards and pulling off several spinning jumps before landing with one foot up in the air behind him and bending his upper body forward in a sort of bow. "Easy as pie."

Sam smirked, sliding after him with a fair amount of ease himself. Within minutes he was skating figure eights right behind Gabriel, leaving perfectly straight tracks as he switched from foot to enormous foot with quite a bit of grace. He wasn't an Olympic figure skater by any means, but for a man of almost six-and-a-half feet tall he certainly handled himself a lot better than Dean would have thought possible.

Not to be outdone by his younger brother, Dean stepped out onto the ice himself, ready to follow after them with just as much ease… And immediately pitched forward and faceplanted onto the ground, spread-eagled like a gigantic starfish. He sat up with a groan, rubbing his nose and glaring at Sam and Gabriel while they laughed from their positions a few feet away.

"That's pretty good form, Dean-o," Gabriel said between guffaws. "Where did you say you trained for this?"

Sam laughed even harder, bending over to put his hands on his knees. "I think that move's called a _Jack Daniels_. They only teach it after last call at the bar, so Dean's great at it by now."

"Oh, you just wait 'til I get over there, Sasquatch," Dean said as menacingly as he could manage while scrabbling to his feet on the thin blades. "I'm takin' you _down_."

"I'd like to see you try," Sam said with a devilish grin, taking off across the ice with Gabriel beside him. While Dean and Castiel watched in disbelief, the Archangel grabbed Sam around the waist, picking him up and hoisting all six feet, four inches, and two-hundred pounds of him up above his head with only one hand. Sam seemed just as surprised as everyone else, but he adjusted quickly, and to the few other people at the skating rink it would have appeared that Sam and Gabe had been skating for their entire lives, ignoring the fact that as the smaller one, Gabriel should have been the one being lifted.

A few moments later Sam's feet touched the ground again, and he immediately ran circles around Dean, beaming widely as he did.

"Alright, alright, you can skate," Dean admitted sullenly, hauling himself up using the wall and Castiel's hand. "Where the hell did you learn that, anyway?"

"Jess and I used to go every once in a while; she was really good, so she taught me how."

"Well, good to know you probably looked like a newborn deer testing out its legs at some point," Dean grumbled, trying to pry himself away from the wall and immediately regretting it when he fell flat on his ass again.

"Here," Sam said, taking pity on his brother, who was obviously trying his hardest to look cool in front of Castiel and failing miserably at it. He extended his hand, helping Dean to his feet, and let the older hunter use him as a crutch while Cas did the same with Gabriel. "Just hang on to me at first, and don't try to go anywhere fast. Bend your knees a little, not – Yeah, good, like that. Okay, just take little strokes, toe to ankle, and –"

"Whoa!" Dean said as the toe-pick on the tip of his skate caught the ice and sent him pitching forward. Sam didn't let him fall, somehow managing to use his momentum to keep them both on their feet and spinning them around instead.

"You're good, just don't put the very tip of your toe down next time. See, look at Cas. He's getting it."

Sure enough, the ex-angel had already ventured a few feet away from Gabriel, standing on slightly shaky legs while he slowly glided in circles around his brother. Gabriel was muttering something to him in Enochian, seemingly encouraging him, because Cas nodded and drifted a little farther away, taking a few bigger swipes with his skates and widening the circle.

"You wanna join him?" Sam asked when Dean began to loosen his grip on the flannel shirt Sam was wearing.

"Yeah, I think so." He drifted away from Sam, happy to notice that he wasn't wobbling quite so badly anymore, and soon caught up to the ex-angel. Castiel smiled at him, wobbling a little and almost falling before righting himself and standing relatively still again.

"I think I could learn to like this," he said happily, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "It's a bit like flying, once you get used to the lack of friction."

"Yeah, well I hate flying," Dean said with a frown. "Not enough control over my own body."

"I don't mean travelling by plane, Dean. I mean really _flying_, with my own wings. It's similar to this in a lot of ways, I think."

"If you say so. At least you're having fun."

Castiel's smile fell a little. "And you aren't?"

Dean sighed. "I dunno, man. This kinda thing isn't really what I do well, y'know?"

"Well then, maybe you should practice until it _is_ something you do well. You weren't born knowing how to hunt either, after all."

"Alright… Promise you won't laugh when I fall on my ass?"

"Only if you don't laugh when I fall on mine."

"Deal."

They made it for about another thirty seconds before Dean did exactly what he predicted and began to fall backward. Castiel tried to catch him but missed by several inches, and Dean was flat on his back and trying to kick his feet back under him immediately. Unfortunately, he was too busy trying to get up to notice where exactly his feet were going, and when Castiel bent over to help him up he was caught by the side of one of Dean's skates in a very painful place. The ex-angel's face paled as he let out a strangled-sounding squeak, and then he too was on his knees on the ground, hands between his legs and forehead on the ice.

"Oh, shit," Sam said when he realized what had just happened. Gabriel yanked Dean to his feet while Sam knelt next to Castiel, hoping Dean at least hadn't gotten him in the jewels with the bladed part of the skate. He put a hand on the dark-haired man's back, almost feeling sympathy pains himself when Cas shuddered and let out a barely audible groan of pain. "You okay, Cas?"

"I… don't know…" he choked out. After a few moments, he pulled his hands away from the crotch of his pants and sighed deeply, allowing Sam to help him stand and lead him over to where Dean was already waiting on a bench outside the ice rink. He sat down on it, grimacing and closing his eyes when he realized he was still sore.

"Cas, I'm so sorry," Dean said as soon as the ex-angel had sat down beside him. "You okay?"

"I'll live, but that was… very painful. I would rather not have anyone kick me there again. Ever."

"Yeah, I really am sorry, Cas. No one likes when that happens. You think maybe we should leave the skating to our brothers from now on?"

Castiel looked over to Sam and Gabriel, who had gone back to skating once they were sure he and Dean were going to be alright on their own, and then glanced at the blades on Dean's skates with a shudder.

"Yes. I… think we might be better off just watching from now on."

Dean nodded, completely content with that idea. "That sounds like a good plan to me."


	17. Snow Day

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

Sam Winchester was _not_ a fan of snow. Too many years spent in crummy motels with broken heaters had all but ruined winter in general for him, and snow was definitely part of the reason for it. It stuck to his clothes, melted into them so they were heavy and the freezing dampness pressed right against his skin, and managed to get tracked onto every spot of relatively warm, dry flooring no matter how hard he stomped his shoes off at the door. Even worse, it made it harder to hear something sneaking up behind him, muffling the sounds of a Wendigo's or werewolf's footfalls until it was almost too late to react. In short, it was a powdery white nightmare.

So when a veil of dark, heavy clouds had begun to gather over Lebanon and many other areas across the Midwestern United States the night before, Sam had simply retreated to his room and made doubly sure the windows were sealed tightly, piling a couple of extra blankets on the bed and falling asleep before Gabriel even came up to join him. By morning he was still in a state of warm, peaceful slumber, his long limbs curled into a messy ball as he lay completely unaware of the attacker slowly sneaking up on him. The man's lips curled upward in a sinister grin; only a few steps to go now… now only feet… inches…

Sam yelped and fell out of bed when something cold and wet was shoved down the neck of his shirt, landing in a heap at the feet of none other than a beaming Gabriel. The Archangel laughed airily, watching Sam throw off his wet T-shirt with unconcealed amusement.

"'Mornin', Samsquatch," he said cheerfully, holding up a snowball in one hand. "It snowed last night."

"Yeah, I got that," Sam said irritably, shuddering and shaking the half-melted ice crystals off of his back with a grimace. "And I don't like snow, so if you don't mind I think I'll go back to bed now." With that, he proceeded to crawl under the covers again, turning his back on Gabriel with a frustrated huff.

"Aww, come ooonnn…" Gabriel whined, grabbing Sam's arm and pulling him out of bed again. "This is the snowiest winter we've had in years! And it's the first one I've ever really gotten to share with you. Can't we go have some fun?"

"Gabe…" Sam wanted to say no. He really did. But one look at the angel's sad brown eyes and he knew he'd lost. Now he was beginning to doubt that Castiel had learned the "puppy-eyes" from him or Dean; Gabriel seemed to be pretty good at them himself. With a sigh, Sam strode over to his closet, pulling on a long-sleeved shirt and searching for his coat. "Alright. What should we do first?"

* * *

"And it's called what?" Castiel asked as he watched Dean flop onto his back in the nearly sixteen inches of snow on the ground outside the bunker.

"They're called snow angels, Cas. Here, let me show you." He moved his arms up and down and pushed his legs together before spreading them out again, repeating this until he was satisfied with the imprint in the snow. Then he slowly stood up, careful not to leave footprints anywhere that could mar the edges of the snow angel. "Well? Whaddya think?"

Castiel tilted his head to one side and then the other, narrowing his eyes at the strange shape in the snow as he tried to make sense of its significance. "That looks nothing like any angel I ever met, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I get that, but since most humans can't exactly see what you guys actually look like without vessels, this is what shape we usually think an angel takes."

"Would you rather I had taken that shape instead of this one before becoming human?" Castiel asked softly, his eyes immediately shining with regret as he thought about Dean preferring something he could not offer.

"Dammit, Cas, of course not!" Dean said almost instantly, staring the ex-angel down fiercely as he fought to nip this in the bud. "I'm just saying that that's what most of humanity thinks angels look like. That doesn't mean _I_ do, or even that I _want_ to. You're perfect as you are, okay?"

Castiel nodded, striding over to Dean and embracing him before giving him a quick kiss. "Thank you, Dean."

"For what?"

"For being you."

"Alright, I'll take it," he said with an amused smile, returning Castiel's kiss with interest. "Anyway, have you seen Gabriel yet today?"

"He said he was going to get Sam to come out and join us. That was about ten minutes ago."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that. Sam likes snow about as much as Ebenezer Scrooge likes charity. We won't be seeing him or Gabe for the rest of –"

SPLAT!

Castiel watched, dumbfounded, as Dean was struck dead-on with a gigantic snowball. It hit his nose with the accuracy of a sniper-rifle, falling apart on impact so that his entire face ended up being covered in the white powder, particularly his lips and eyelashes. For a moment the hunter just blinked, staring straight ahead with his mouth slightly agape. Then his mouth twisted into a snarl, and he screamed his assailant's name like it was a curse word.

"SAAAAAM!"

The younger Winchester popped up from behind a snowdrift, brushing some of the white powder from his hair and smiling as innocently as he could. "What? I didn't do that, it was Gabriel."

"Yeah, well you _let_ him do it, so you're in trouble too." Dean immediately picked up a handful of snow, molding it into a snowball and preparing to throw it at Sam.

"Dean," Cas began softly. "Maybe you should think about this before – _oof_!"

The ex-angel had started walking out in front of Dean right as he pitched the snowball, and instead of hitting Sam with it, he managed to land it smack dab in the middle of Castiel's face. The hunter's eyes widened and he sucked in a slow breath, biting his lip as he realized what he had just done.

"Cas, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"

Cas held up a hand to silence him, staring at Dean with a certain righteous fury the hunter only used to see right before the angel decided to smite something. The average person would have already wet themselves, and Dean probably would have too if he didn't know Cas so well already.

"Dean Winchester…" Castiel growled, all of his Heavenly fury appearing to return in those two words. "Whether I am in human form or not, you have still dared to strike a member of the Heavenly Host. Prepare to be punished."

"Cas…? What are you doing?" Sam asked worriedly, seeing how intense this had gotten all of a sudden and wondering why Gabriel wasn't doing anything to stop his obviously pissed-off brother.

Not bothering to answer Sam, the ex-angel stared straight at Dean, keeping unblinking eye contact while he stooped down, picked up a double-handful of snow, and mashed it into Dean's face. Then, with a soft chuckle, Castiel smiled and used his thumb to wipe some of the snow off of Dean's nose and lips.

"There. Now we're even."

Dean smiled evilly, picking up another snowball and smirking at the blue-eyed man. "Oh-ho, no way, Cas. I'm just getting started."

He pitched the snowball as hard as he could, nailing Gabriel in the shoulder, and in seconds the fight was on, snowballs flying in every direction as the four of them jumped in and out of the snowdrifts and threw the softly-packed ice at one another. Most of the snowballs ended up missing, and even Gabriel decided to play by the rules and throw them like a human instead of making them into heat-seeking missiles; he had learned it wasn't as fun to play with people when none of them even stood a chance of matching him, so handicapping himself a little – or a lot – was worth it. Every once in a while someone would get hit in the chest, shoulder, or face, yelping when the cold powder touched the bare skin on their necks and faces. At one point Sam even managed to trip over his own long legs, landing spread-eagled and face-down in the snow with a muffled sigh of displeasure. He got right back up, though, and the game continued as before.

After about a half-hour of this, everyone was tired and soaked with melted snow, shivering and laughing as they panted and wheezed on their backs in the white fluff.

"I… call truce…" Dean said softly, groaning as his joints reminded him of just why he wasn't supposed to abuse them this way for fun anymore.

"Agreed," the younger Winchester said tiredly, laying his head back in the snow and staring lazily up at the gray sky. "Gabe, Cas, you ready to head inside?"

Castiel, who was still out of breath after having been tackled to the ground by Gabriel, gave Sam the thumbs-up, sitting up and shaking his head as if to clear it.

"Alright, then," said Dean, standing with a grunt. "After we get into some dry clothes, I say we find some clean snow and make ourselves some snow cones. We've got the syrup for it in the freezer from the summer, I think."

Gabriel beamed at him. "I think I like you, Dean. Just let me handle the syrups and –"

"Uh-uh, no way that's happening. You'll make it too sweet for any living creature to handle."

"Will not!"

"Will too. And I paid for the stuff, so I get to decide what gets done with it."

"Then I'll just conjure some up."

"No."

"Yes."

"_No._"

"_Yes._"

"NO!"

"Samsquatch?"

"No, Gabe."

"Aww…"

Maybe Sam Winchester still wasn't really a fan of snow. Maybe he never would be. But as he watched his brother and his boyfriend walking back toward the bunker, arguing about the appropriate amount of snow cone syrup while Castiel attempted to play peacemaker, he decided that maybe snow _days_ weren't so bad after all.


	18. Starry Skies

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

**A/N: This chapter was pretty hard to write, and it turned out longer than usual, but I'm happy with the end result. I hope you all are too.**

* * *

Gabriel hadn't always been the most attentive brother in the world. When Castiel and all the other angels in Heaven had been begging for his assistance, pleading for him to join them in protecting Earth from Lucifer, the Archangel had been hiding amongst the hundreds of remaining demigods and pagan deities, still mourning the loss of his brother the Morning Star and wanting to stay as far away from either side as possible.

Time still hadn't completely healed the wounds his desertion had left on the hearts of his brothers, especially on Castiel's. The Angel of Thursday had been such a trusting soul, always looking up to Gabriel above all his other siblings, even Michael. To be forced into a battle against the angel all of them had once dearly loved and believed to be God's favorite had nearly broken him, and he had had no one to turn to for sympathy in a Heaven full of emotionless soldiers. It was a fate Gabriel hadn't wanted for his kind-hearted, innocent little brother, but there was no way for him to leave Earth without being pulled back into battle, and so he stayed and watched as Castiel became warped, just as all of his other siblings had.

The last few years had helped repair a lot of the damage between the two angels, since Gabriel had finally dared to risk his own life against Lucifer in the battle to stop the Apocalypse and also saved the Winchesters' lives as a result. There was a sort of harmony between them now that hadn't existed even before Castiel became human, and Gabriel attributed it completely to the love both he and Castiel shared with the Winchesters. The brothers' presence had made the two of them happier now, calmer, and as if to prove his point Castiel seemed more joyful today than the Archangel had seen him yet.

So when Dean came to Gabriel that evening, worry etched into every line of his face, and told him something was wrong with Castiel, Gabriel realized he might not know as much about his little brother anymore as he thought he did.

"He just seems really down, and he won't tell me what's wrong," Dean said softly, looking over his shoulder to be sure Castiel hadn't followed them into the room.

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow at the older Winchester. "You sure about that, Dean? 'Cause he looks pretty stinkin' happy today to me."

"That's the problem," Dean said, frustration breaking into his voice. "When have you ever known Cas to be 'pretty stinkin' happy' without there being something _really_ important going on? It's just not him. And I know it isn't right because every time I walk into the room he's just sitting there, staring off into space until he realizes I'm there, and then he immediately snaps into Joyful Angel Mode." The next words were unspoken, but Gabriel knew what they would be: '_I'm really worried about him, Gabriel._'

Gabriel sighed, nodding and standing to put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Okay," he said softly, looking down the hall toward the bedroom Dean and Castiel shared. "I'll go talk to him."

Dean immediately breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, G –"

"But," Gabriel cut in, holding up a finger to silence Dean. "If there's something going on that he doesn't want me to tell you about, _I'm_ not going to tell you either."

"What? Why the hell not?"

"Cas will tell you whatever it is when he feels comfortable with it. If he's keeping something from you, he's got a good reason. You can agree to this or not, it's up to you, but you sure aren't getting any answers on your own, Dean-o. So do we have a deal or not?"

"Yeah. Deal."

"Alright." Gabriel brushed past Dean, giving him a couple of reassuring pats on the back. "Let me see what I can do."

* * *

Castiel looked exactly like Dean said he would when Gabriel entered. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring forlornly out of the window at the starry sky with his chin in his hands, and it took several seconds before he noticed his brother. When he did, he immediately spun around to face him, pulling his lips up slightly and widening his eyes so that he looked cheerful and bright. The sight of it immediately made Gabriel feel like the worst brother in the world.

'_How did I become so out of touch with him that I couldn't tell how pathetically fake that smile is?_' he wondered, and he was immensely thankful that at least Dean could still read Castiel like a book.

"Did you need something, Gabriel?" Castiel asked, still with too much cheer in his usually monotone voice; Gabriel forced himself not to grimace at just how strange it sounded.

Instead of speaking, the Archangel strode over and sat down on the edge of the bed himself, sighing and staring his younger brother in the eyes. "Dean's worried about you, Castiel. He says you seem down, and after looking at you for two seconds I'd have to agree."

"I don't know what you mean," Castiel said in an attempt at nonchalance, not looking Gabriel in the eyes anymore now.

"Yeah, I think you do. And your boyfriend's worried enough to come to _me_ about it, so let's not drag this out any longer, huh? What's bothering you?"

For several seconds he didn't think Castiel was going to answer, and when he did it was almost too soft to hear.

"I… It's just… the stars…"

"The stars? What about them?"

Castiel choked out his next words in a whisper. "I miss them…"

Realization slammed into Gabriel like a ton of bricks. So _that's_ what this was all about…

"You miss your grace, don't you Castiel?" he asked softly, gazing up at the starry sky just like his brother.

"I… Not always, no. I enjoy being human, and I love being with Dean more than anything I've ever known. But sometimes I do miss being able to fly, to be weightless and take myself anywhere I want to go in the blink of an eye. Being stuck to the ground all the time just feels… constricting. And yesterday, after that speech I gave to Dean about 'daring to strike one of the Heavenly Host,' I was reminded of just how powerless I am compared to what I used to be."

"Yeah, I can't even begin to imagine what that feels like," Gabriel said softly, still keeping his gaze straight ahead just like Castiel's. "But why haven't you told Dean any of this?"

Castiel smiled slightly then, a real smile this time, and turned to face Gabriel. "Do you really have to ask that? Dean always finds a way to blame himself when I'm sad or hurt. I didn't want to let him bring himself down over something he can't control."

"Hmm… I see your point. And I have an idea."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Get Dean and meet me and Sam outside at eleven o'clock, okay?"

"What? Why?"

"Just trust me on this one, okay?"

Castiel thought about it for a moment, then nodded slowly.

"Okay."

* * *

Gabriel and Sam were waiting for Castiel and Dean exactly at eleven, just as Gabriel had said they'd be. Dean yawned and shuffled deeper into his coat, blinking lazily at his brother and the Archangel as he took Castiel's hand and joined them.

"So what's this about?" he asked Gabriel, a slight smirk on his lips. "You decide to call a family meeting or something, Mr. Brady?"

"Not exactly. Cas, c'mere."

Castiel did as Gabriel asked, standing in front of him with his head tilted to one side in confusion. "What is it, Gabriel?"

"Hold still and you'll find out."

The Archangel's eyes began to glow with a golden light, and he reached out and placed his palm across Castiel's forehead, sending some of the light down his arm and into Castiel. The dark-haired man gasped and sank to his knees, his eyes rolling beneath their lids as he swayed and fought to keep his balance. Dean dropped down beside him, looking on with concern as he held Castiel steady. A few seconds later it was over, and Castiel stood up as if nothing had happened.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, keeping his hand on Cas's back as if expecting him to topple over at any second.

"I lent him a little of my grace," Gabriel explained, the golden light quickly fading from his eyes. "It won't last long, and I'll actually need to sleep for a while when it's all said and done, but for now Cas has his wings back."

Sam and Dean blinked at Castiel, who smiled and nodded to Gabriel. "Yes. And now we can show you two what it feels like to fly."

"Uh-uh. No thanks," Dean said immediately, backing away from Castiel's outstretched hand. "We've done this before, remember? It messes me up every single time."

"Not like this, Dean." Castiel closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles, and an instant later a pair of gigantic black wings materialized behind him, rustling as the feathers stirred in the gentle breeze. "We won't be travelling halfway across the country in an instant this time. Trust me, and I promise you'll like it."

Dean really wanted to say no; he hated flying with a passion and everyone knew it. But one look at the glint in Castiel's blue eyes, the pure joy that shone out of them at having his wings back again, and all hope of winning that argument was lost. He nodded, squeezing Castiel's hand and hoping to convey exactly how much trust it took to allow someone to take him flying _anywhere_. "Okay, Cas. Okay."

"Well, that's settled. Let's go!" Gabriel said excitedly, his own set of six golden wings appearing behind his back an instant later. He slipped his arms around Sam's waist, Cas doing the same with Dean, and moments later they were airborne, the angels' wings flapping softly and leaving swirls of snowflakes tumbling around each other in their wake. Dean and Sam hung on tight, tense and afraid to fall from such a height at first, and for a few minutes it was only Gabriel and Castiel who were getting any enjoyment out of the experience.

"It's alright, _In Monons_," Castiel whispered in Dean's ear when he noticed how tense the hunter was, and how quickly he was breathing. "I didn't drop your soul when I brought you up from Hell, and I won't drop you now."

Dean nodded, tightening his grip on Castiel's arms and breathing easier, and Castiel flapped his wings harder, gliding forward until he was side-by-side with Gabriel and Sam. The younger Winchester grinned over at them and Dean beamed back at him, awestruck at all of the tiny pinpricks of light beneath them that made up the town of Lebanon. They could see why Castiel and Gabriel enjoyed flying so much; this was a totally different experience than riding in a plane.

All too soon, though, Gabriel began to breathe a little harder, sweat gathering on his brow even at this low temperature as he fought to keep giving Castiel enough grace to keep his wings materialized. With an apologetic smile at his brother, he signaled that they needed to turn back, and in only minutes the Winchesters and the angels were on the ground again, Castiel's wings disappearing as soon as his feet met the earth. Gabriel leaned heavily against Sam, panting as his body let him know it didn't appreciate having to share his grace with another person.

"You alright?" Dean asked, watching as Sam and Cas helped Gabriel into the house and he flopped down heavily on Sam's bed, eyelids fluttering sleepily.

"Mmhmm. 'M good. Just gotta sleep for eight hours straight and I'll be good as new. Oh, and if you can't see me breathing or find my pulse, don't worry; I'm totally okay."

Castiel smiled down at his brother, amazed beyond words at what he had just done for him.

"Thank you so much, Gabriel. This means more to me than you know."

The Archangel smiled, closing his eyes and patting Castiel's hand as he fell asleep. Maybe he wasn't the world's worst older brother, after all.


	19. Friends and Family

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

Sam had been keeping a silent watch over Gabriel since last night, when the Archangel had fallen asleep for what was probably one of the only times in his thousands of years of life. The hunter had managed perhaps an hour or two of sleep total, too worried about his angel to rest for more than a few minutes at once even though Gabriel had assured him that he would be fine. He trusted Gabriel, but every instinct in Sam's mind was still telling him that it was not alright for a person to stop breathing and lack a pulse; only dead people did that. So he kept checking the clock every few minutes, waiting for eight hours to pass while he kept his fingers on the pulse point of Gabriel's neck and listened for any indication that the angel was breathing. So far, nothing.

At around nine o'clock, Castiel knocked and entered the room through the not-quite-closed door, giving Sam a sympathetic look as he gazed down at his brother, still motionless as death.

"He'll be alright, Sam," Castiel said calmly, sipping from a mug of coffee and offering one to Sam as well. The younger Winchester looked up at him with tired, bloodshot eyes, shaking his head at the offered coffee and turning back to Gabriel.

"I know, but… I've already seen him die once, you know? Even if it wasn't real, it isn't something you just forget. I can't leave him until I know he's really alright."

Castiel hummed low in his throat, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside Sam.

"I understand. I would do the same if it were Dean, even though I trust him with all of my heart. Would you feel better if I stayed here, or should I leave?"

"If you wouldn't mind…" Sam said slowly, rubbing his eyes and yawning tiredly.

Cas nodded and folded his hands in his lap. "Not at all."

They sat in comfortable silence for another half-hour, making small-talk every so often but mostly just waiting for Gabriel to awaken. Finally, Sam thought he felt a pulse jumping beneath his fingers, and he stood up and laid his head on Gabriel's chest to see if he could hear it. Sure enough, the vessel's heart was beating strongly, as if it had never stopped at all. An instant later Gabriel's eyes cracked open, and he clenched the sheets in his hands as he gasped in a deep breath, panting for a few seconds as his lungs remembered what they were supposed to be doing. Then, as if none of this was unusual at all, he stood up and stretched, yawning like some great cat and blinking lazily as he searched the room for the chocolate bars he had stashed in there earlier.

"Mmm… Mornin' guys," he said once he had found what he was looking for, his eyes immediately brightening when he got a taste of the sugary treat. "I didn't snore or anything, did I?"

"You didn't even _breathe_, idiot," Sam said with a glare as he strode over to Gabriel and gave him a quick kiss. "How the hell would you have snored?"

"I'm an angel. Weirder things have happened."

"Yeah, well knock it off and leave sleeping to us mortals, okay? The way you do it is really creepy."

"I don't know whether to be touched or offended right now, Samsquatch," Gabriel said airily. "Anyway, don't you think we should go get some breakfast now? I can smell it cooking down the hall."

Sam sighed, nodding and smiling as he strode out of the room ahead of Gabriel and Castiel. "Yeah. Sure."

* * *

When the three of them reached the kitchen, they were surprised to see not only Dean and Kevin sitting at the table, but a young woman as well. She wasn't extremely tall, only about five feet four inches, with dark hair, green eyes, a slightly upturned nose, and thin pink lips above a subtly angled chin. When Gabriel, Sam, and Castiel entered the room, the girl and Kevin stood up from their seats to greet them.

"Oh, 'morning, guys," Kevin said a little more quietly than usual. "This is Josephine Carter, the girl from the library I've been telling you about for a while."

"Please, call me Josie. And 'for a while,' huh?" the girl asked teasingly, giving Kevin a little smirk. "Only good things, I hope."

Kevin turned a pale shade of pink. "What bad things do I know about you, exactly?"

She smiled, and Gabriel gave Kevin a thumbs-up from behind her head for the nice line.

"Josie," Kevin continued, "this is Gabriel and his brother Castiel. You've already met Sam."

"Hi, Sam," she said with a nod in the tall man's direction before giving each of the angels a strong handshake. "And it's nice to meet you two. Those are really cool names, by the way. 'Gabriel…' That's like the Archangel, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Gabriel said hastily. "Our father was kinda religious, so he named me after the angel."

"Neat. What about you, Castiel? Did your dad name you after an angel like your brother?"

"Er… Yes. After an angel. Yes," Castiel stammered, and Dean rolled his eyes at how terrible a liar Castiel was whenever he was put on the spot.

"Well anyway," the older hunter cut in. "There's bacon, eggs, biscuits and gravy, pancakes – pretty much whatever you want to eat. Why don't you guys join us?"

Everyone agreed, suddenly realizing how hungry they were and how hard Dean was trying to keep Kevin from feeling embarrassed. Before long, everyone was chatting freely, learning a lot about Josie and also about Kevin's relationship with her. It turned out she was twenty years old, had moved away from her overbearing parents in Salina a year ago and taken the job at the library to save up enough money for law school, and liked pretty much any kind of music, including classic rock and gospel. That won both Dean's and the angels' votes immediately, of course. She and Kevin had been seeing each other for about a month now – nothing big, just going out for coffee every now and then, but it was obvious they really liked one another. Cas caught Dean smiling more than once when he noticed the two holding hands under the table, and he kicked the hunter in the shin before Kevin could notice it.

After breakfast was finished and cleaned up – six pairs of hands were a whole lot faster than one, after all – Kevin and Josie grabbed their coats and headed for the front door. Josie had a shift starting at the library in thirty minutes, and Kevin wanted to walk her there just to make sure she got there safely. Everyone was really impressed with Kevin's new girl, even inviting her over for dinner on Christmas Eve, which she happily agreed to.

Just as they were about to open the door, Gabriel cleared his throat loudly, and the pair turned around to give him questioning looks.

"What's wrong?" Kevin asked, hoping Gabriel wasn't about to make some kind of dirty joke.

The Archangel smiled brightly and pointed up to the ceiling. "Look up."

They did, and Kevin immediately blushed. Just above their heads was a single piece of mistletoe, its shiny white berries looking like tiny pearls among the bright green leaves.

"Oh. Uh…" Kevin stammered. "Wow. Josie, it's cool if you don't wanna… umm… I mean you don't have to –"

He was cut off when she leaned forward and kissed him, soft and chaste, and then smiled brightly when she took his hand in hers.

"I know I don't have to. But maybe I want to. Think that over on the way to the library, okay?"

"O… Okay…"

"I like her," Sam whispered to Dean as the two of them stepped out of the front door, Kevin still red as a tomato. "I hope we see her around a lot more."

Then Kevin turned around, giving Gabriel a thankful smile as he tugged on his collar and shut the door behind them.

"Don't worry," Castiel said with a knowing smile. "I think we will."


	20. Stockings

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

Castiel was very inquisitive by nature, relatively non-judgmental and willing to try just about anything once. He did still stick to some of the traditions he had learned as an angel, sure, but even back when he had had his grace he had always been very adaptable, curious about the habits of all of God's creatures and willing to imitate most everything humans did for the sake of gaining more knowledge about them. But while Castiel had thousands of years of celestial knowledge under his belt, he was also incredibly inexperienced in many of the lesser traditions of humankind.

Today's lesson in humanity, and one that was proving quite confusing for him, was the subject of Christmas stockings. He had heard that part of the Christmas tradition for many families involved hanging large stockings above the fireplace on Christmas Eve, but what he did not understand was why presents needed to be placed in giant socks. Surely wrapping paper would suffice, as it did for most of their other presents? These "stockings" also appeared to be utterly useless for daily wear, too big for any person to reasonably put under their pants or shoes.

Regardless, he had purchased enough stockings for each person at the bunker when they had taken that trip to the mall to Christmas shop, plus two extra for himself at the recommendation of the saleswoman. He hadn't understood exactly why she seemed so interested in him collecting the strange socks in large quantities, but she had seemed so genuinely convinced that he needed two more that he hadn't had the heart to tell her no. Besides, the credit cards weren't charged to them anyway; what harm could it do?

Picking up one of the long, colorful red stockings from the stack on his bed, Castiel examined it closely, running his fingers over the material to get a feel of the texture. He knew the Winchesters, Gabriel, and Kevin were out getting some food in advance for their Christmas Eve dinner, so now seemed as good a time as any to put these things above the fireplace. He regarded the extra pair for a moment, then decided to put them on himself. Stockings were socks, after all, and he'd worn socks for years under his suit and trenchcoat. The fact that the saleswoman had said he'd look "sexy" in these… Well, she was probably just a little bit crazy.

* * *

When Dean pulled open the door to the bunker, laden down with a gigantic ham and the ingredients for a pumpkin pie, he was expecting Castiel to be watching television or reading a book in their room, like he usually did whenever Dean was gone before he woke. So when he found the ex-angel in the main room, stringing something up above the mantel of the fireplace, he was a little surprised.

Even more surprising, though, was the fact that Castiel appeared to have dressed himself in the bottom half of a kinky lingerie set from Victoria's Secret. The angel's legs and feet were bare below the Metallica boxers Dean had gotten him to sleep in; that was normal. What was _not_ normal were the pair of bright red, thigh-high fishnet stockings that covered Castiel from his mid-thighs to his feet, making him look like some kind of confused Christmas hooker. There were even a pair of little red bows, complete with jingle bells, on the outer edges of his thighs, and the straps that were meant to attach the stockings to a corset hung loose in front of them.

Even funnier was the fact that Cas appeared to have bought another two pair of these fishnet stockings, and the four garments were hanging by their corset-straps just over the fireplace, so long they brushed against the grate and nearly touched the floor.

"Uh… Cas?" Dean said softly, and the angel turned around and smiled warmly at them.

"Hello, Dean. I was just finishing putting our stockings up. I don't understand the purpose of this custom, but if it's part of a traditional Christmas I'll go along with it."

That did it for Sam and Kevin. They immediately burst out laughing, hurrying to set their grocery bags on the floor before they dropped them, and doubled over while they cackled like hyenas. Castiel looked strangely at them, turning his head to one side and raising one of his eyebrows.

"Did I do something funny?"

"Cas… You…" Dean began, fighting off laughter himself because he was afraid to hurt Cas's feelings.

Gabriel smirked at him, amusement written in every line of his face. "Bro, you look like one of the girls I used to bring back to my old bachelor pad. That isn't a good thing in a man's body."

"I don't understand."

"Right. Uh…" Dean said slowly, gesturing to the red stockings on Castiel's legs. "Those stockings, wherever they came from, are actually for women. And they're pretty much only for women to wear right before they take them off, if you know what I mean."

Castiel took a moment to process this, and then he turned as red as the stockings from neck to ears. "Oh. I see. So this is _not_ the right kind of stocking to wear at Christmas?"

Sam, who had finally gotten enough control of himself to speak, decided to answer this time. "You don't wear Christmas stockings, Castiel. They're too big. It's just a decorative thing now."

"Ah," Castiel said softly, pulling the stockings off of his legs and tossing them far away from him with a look of disgust. "Well, I did wonder why that saleswoman kept telling me I'd look really sexy in these. I thought she just didn't know anything about Christmas. It's probably too late to return these now that I've worn them, but I can at least take these down from the mantel…"

"No wait, wait!" Kevin said quickly, rushing forward to grab Castiel's hand. "I don't care if they're lingerie or not, they're hilarious! We should use them every year, like a new tradition."

"I agree," said Gabriel, who had managed to snap a picture of Castiel on Sam's phone and was now sending it to everyone in the house. "We need to remember this every year."

Castiel sighed, walking closer to Dean until they were almost nose-to-nose and then laying his head on the hunter's shoulder.

"Dean?" Cas said when the older Winchester wrapped his arms around him and chuckled.

"Yeah?"

"What is Victoria's Secret, anyway?"


	21. Eggnog

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

"Uh, Sammy?" Dean asked as he peered around his taller-but-younger brother's shoulder at the bowl of eggnog on the counter.

"What?" Sam asked without turning around, concentrating on getting all of the brandy into the bowl and not onto the floor.

"Nothin'. I just thought you might want some eggnog to go with that brandy."

Sam smirked, pouring a little bit more brandy into the enormous mixing bowl before swigging down the last of it straight from the bottle. "Coming from you that's a little scary, Dean. And you haven't lived until you've had eggnog the way they make it at Stanford. It's probably strong enough to knock an angel over if he drinks enough."

As if he'd been summoned, Gabriel came in at that moment, striding over to the bowl and taking a contemplative sniff before drawing back like he'd been stung. "Wow, Samsquatch. How much alcohol's _in_ that stuff? I only sniffed it and I think I'm already wasted."

"You're hilarious," Sam said, pouring it into cups for all of them, as well as Castiel, who had just come into the kitchen too. Kevin was currently over at Josephine's house, so they didn't have to worry about the fact that he was a minor and shouldn't drink. If he managed to sneak some from the kitchen while they weren't looking, though… Well, he was a legal adult, and they were probably going to be too buzzed to care at that point. "Here, Gabriel, this one's for you."

The Archangel cocked an eyebrow at the gallon pitcher full of eggnog Sam handed him, sniffing it again and shaking his head. "Uh, Sam? Are you trying to tell me something here? I think I'll get sick before I even finish half of this."

"You won't," Dean said immediately. "Cas drank an entire liquor store in a couple hours and then ate three-hundred cheeseburgers a few weeks later. He was totally fine both times."

Castiel blushed, neither of those being particularly proud memories of his, and took a sip of his eggnog, wrinkling his nose at the strong alcoholic burn. "I wasn't completely fine after the liquor store. That was probably the first hangover any angel in history's ever had."

"Well congrats, bro," Gabriel said jovially, slapping Castiel on the back and almost making him spill his drink. "Looks like you're a trendsetter, 'cause after tonight I might have the second hangover any angel's ever had." With that he tipped back the pitcher, taking several gigantic gulps before wiping the eggnog moustache off of his lips and grinning at Sam. "This remind you of any of your Stanford parties yet, Sammy-boy? Or were you too drunk to remember them?"

"Hoo boy…" the younger Winchester said with a roll of his eyes, downing his small cup and pouring another one. "I wonder if drinking enough of this will make you funny, Gabe."

"Ouch," Dean said with a chuckle, reaching for the poker set and spreading it out on the table. "That's Sam one, Gabe zero. Now are we gonna play this game or not? Baby needs a new set of spark plugs."

Everyone gathered around the table, drinks and poker chips in front of them, and jumped into the game. Castiel and Gabriel took a few rounds to learn the rules, so Dean and Sam didn't take any chips from them until they were confident that the angels could at least play identify the basic hands. The bowl of eggnog sat at the end of the table, and every so often someone would get up and refill their cup, everyone but Gabriel drinking it slowly since they didn't have angelic alcohol tolerances. A few hours passed in the blink of an eye, blurring together into a happy swirl of eggnog, laughter, and frustrated groans as Dean somehow managed to win a little over half of the hands; Sam's wins made up the smaller half, and the angels had only one each.

Eventually they lost count of what round they were on. Everyone was very buzzed, including Gabriel, who had now drunk almost three gallons of the brandy-soaked eggnog and was busy giggling to himself while he tried – and failed – again and again to braid a poker chip into Sam's hair. Castiel had had only one glass, but since he now had an alcohol tolerance that got him wasted on one beer, that was a lot. He was staring blissfully off into space, swaying back and forth and hiccupping every few seconds while he laid his head on Dean's shoulder and went cross-eyed trying to focus on his cards.

"Dean, is th – _*hic* _– this a club or a shpade? I can't t – _*hic* _– ell," Castiel mumbled, holding up a red six of hearts for Dean to see.

The older hunter sighed, pulling out his chair and Castiel's so he could throw the inebriated ex-angel's arm over his shoulder and keep him from tumbling off his shaky legs.

"Alright, Cas, it's time for bed now," Dean said softly, not showing any indication that he had even been drinking besides a slight darkening of his cheeks.

"But 'm no'tired," Castiel slurred, tripping and clutching onto Dean so he wouldn't fall.

"You will be once you get in bed. Come on." Cas trudged along beside him, swaying dangerously the entire time but not falling with Dean's strong arm around him. He hiccupped another three times, and Dean made a mental note to get him some water to drink and get rid of them so that both of them wouldn't be up all night long.

Sam watched the two of them go, unable to move anywhere with Gabriel's hands still woven into his hair, and waved sleepily. "Night, Dean."

"Night, Sammy. Oh, and by the way, either give me the recipe for this or be prepared to make it again next year. This was the best eggnog ever."

Sam stared down at own almost-empty glass of eggnog, swirling it around and then pushing it away when the motion made him slightly queasy. He looked over at Gabriel, who was now busy trying to grab a chocolate bar he'd somehow managed to conjure up into Sam's pocket instead of in his hand, and stood up to check the medicine cabinet, after retrieving the chocolate bar and handing it to Gabriel when he whined in protest. The industrial-sized bottle of ibuprofen was still in there, and he breathed a sigh of relief to see it. Something – namely the way Cas and Gabriel looked along with the way he already felt – told him he and everyone else would have it completely empty by the next afternoon. But if that was the payment for all the fun they'd had as a family tonight, it was totally worth it.


	22. Angels

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

"Urgh…" Gabriel groaned miserably as he laid his head in his hands on the kitchen table. "I don't feel good at all… Why'd you let me drink that much eggnog, Samsquatch? I didn't know a hangover was gonna be this bad…"

Sam sighed and sat down in the chair beside him, careful not to let the legs scrape loudly on the floor, and handed him a cup of coffee and about fifty ibuprofen tablets in a little bowl. "I know, Gabe. But I did tell you, and you seemed pretty okay with it last night."

Gabriel downed the tablets as quickly as he could, wincing when he drank the hot coffee a little too fast. "Last night I was an idiot." He made the mistake of looking out the window at the rising sun and immediately clenched his eyes shut, burying his head in his crossed arms. "Oh, man, my head…"

"Both of you angels are total lightweights," Dean said from his seat beside Castiel at the other end of the table. The ex-angel was leaning his head on Dean's chest, keeping his eyes closed while the hunter massaged his temples and scalp to help ward off a little of the headache while the ibuprofen kicked in. Cas grunted softly but didn't move, too tired and achy to waste his breath arguing with Dean.

"Oh, and that reminds me…"

Dean reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a Hershey bar, waving it tantalizingly in front of Gabriel's face. "Want some chocolate now, Trickster?"

Gabriel's skin turned an interesting shade of whitish-green, and he swallowed hard and looked away from the candy. "Not… Not right now. Don't think I could if I wanted to."

Dean grinned, feeling a little bit like an ass but enjoying the teasing too much to care. "Hey Sam, remember that hangover remedy I told you about all those years ago?"

Sam glared at him. "Dean, don't –"

"Yeah, remember? It was, uh… What was it? Oh yeah: a greasy pork sandwich served on a dirty ashtray."

That did it for Gabriel. He sprang up from the table, Cas close behind him, and both proceeded to lose their dinner and the ibuprofen into the closest receptacle – which in this case happened to be the kitchen sink. It was actually a little touching to watch each angel trying to comfort the other, half-heartedly keeping their hands on each other's backs while they took turns retching side-by-side into the sink. When they finished, both turned to glare at Dean, staring him down as if deciding whether to smite him or not.

"Hey, Cas, I'm sorry," Dean said, having started to regret his little joke the instant it actually made the pair of them sick. He hadn't had a real hangover in so long he'd forgotten how horrible it felt. "I didn't mean –"

"I don't care," Castiel cut in, holding up a hand to silence him. "I don't feel well and I'm not in the mood for jokes. I'm going back to bed, and you are not to bother me until I get up on my own. Is that in any way unclear?"

"Nope, I got it," Dean said softly, offering Cas an apologetic smile while the angel strode past him toward their room, giving the hunter's hand a squeeze to show he wasn't truly angry. Gabriel trailed slowly after him, knowing Dean wouldn't disturb him if Castiel was in the same room, and the hunter just didn't have the heart to object to the Archangel taking his spot in the bed. Also, he had a feeling if he did speak up it might be the last thing he ever did.

* * *

"I don't think I'll be drinking like that for a long time," Gabriel muttered, flopping facedown onto the king-sized bed and cuddling against the soft pillow. "Why didn't you tell me hangovers were so bad?"

"Because I haven't had one in over four years, and I'd forgotten too," Castiel answered sleepily, barely caring that his older brother was in the bed next to him. For angels, who were just collections of celestial wavelengths, personal space was perceived a little differently, so it really wasn't awkward for either of them. "After this, I don't think either of us will forget again."

Gabriel didn't answer, and Castiel turned over to give him a look of concern.

"Do you feel sick again, Gabriel? There's a trashcan on that side of the bed if you need it."

"Nah, I'm alright," the Archangel answered with a sigh. "Just thinking, is all."

"Don't harm yourself, please."

Gabriel smirked at him. "Was that humor I just heard, Cassie? Looks like you're becoming a little more human all the time."

Castiel hummed low in his throat, smiling contentedly despite the pounding in his head. "Yes. I guess I am."

"You're pretty lucky in that regard."

That got Castiel's attention. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, look at me, Castiel. I'm an Archangel of the Lord, and yet here I am, goofing off with a bunch of humans and… and… getting _hung over_! You're human now, so you have an excuse to do these things, but it's been thousands of years since I've done something even _remotely_ resembling Heaven's work. I saved you and the Winchesters, sure, but that was because I like you and had a grudge against Luci, not because Dad told me to."

He paused, a slight blush creeping up into his cheeks. "And it might sound stupid, but seeing that play a couple weeks ago reminded me of who I used to be – who people still think I am. I honestly miss being that Gabriel sometimes – the Herald, the warrior, the second-most-powerful Archangel in Heaven. But now, I'm not even sure I _could_ be him anymore."

"I sincerely believe you are still that Gabriel deep down, Brother," Castiel said after a few moments of silence. "The Herald of God's word… You are still him. You were the one who revealed Dean's fate to Sam Winchester, and the one who helped him understand that Heaven really did have a master plan for both of them. Is that not almost exactly what you had to do when Mary and Joseph doubted their worth in God's eyes, and His plan for them?"

Gabriel chuckled and quirked an eyebrow at his brother. "Did you really just compare Sam and Dean to Mary and Joseph, Castiel?"

Castiel glared at him. "You know what I mean, Gabriel. You've always been doing Heaven's work in some way, whether you meant to or not. It's who you are, and you will never change that."

"You think?"

"I know. And don't forget, Christmas is the season of faith and you're the Christmas Angel. If there was ever a good time to prove to yourself that you're still the Gabriel everyone believes in, it would be now."

Gabriel couldn't help but beam at Castiel. For being the younger of the two, he was certainly a lot wiser sometimes. "Thanks, Cassie. I think I'll do that. Maybe something on Christmas Eve…"

"Good," Castiel said with a yawn. "Now I'm going to sleep. Please don't wake me unless there's a life-or-death emergency." He rolled over, and in only seconds he was already snoring. Just before he fell asleep too, Gabriel smirked and turned over, thinking over what his brother had just said.

"Maybe I _can_ be him again. Just maybe…"

* * *

It was nearly six p.m. when the two angels stumbled out of Dean's bedroom again, well-rested and happy to see their boyfriends now that their heads weren't pounding with the force of a sledgehammer. Dean tried to apologize again for earlier, but Castiel just smiled and shook his head, kissing Dean and forcing him to be quiet.

"It's already been forgiven, _In Monons_. I'm not angry."

"Good," Dean said, glad he hadn't really pissed off his ex-angel. "Well, I made some burgers if you guys are interested."

Castiel's eyes lit up immediately. "Yes! I'm starving!" He rushed over to the kitchen counter, grabbing a plate and filling it with buns before stuffing them with every topping and condiment they had.

Dean laughed, grabbing his own plate while Sam and Gabriel hung back for a few minutes. Gabriel had no need to eat, so he wouldn't be having a burger, and Sam was surprised to see the Archangel looking surprisingly happy for no obvious reason.

"What's up, Gabriel?" Sam asked, wrapping an arm around the shorter man with an amused smile. "You look awfully excited over some burgers you're not even gonna eat."

"No, that's not it," Gabriel said with a quick shake of his head. "But I can't tell you anything until Christmas Eve."

"What? Why not?"

"Just trust me on this one, okay Samsquatch?"

"Yeah. Okay."

Gabriel strode off toward the living room, happily munching on a chocolate bar that had come from absolutely nowhere, and Sam just rolled his eyes and laughed.

"_Freakin' angels._"


	23. Traditions

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

**A/N: This chapter was extremely hard for me, so I hope it turned out alright. I know exactly what I want to do for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but this last one leading up to them was hard to fit in and still make it work out right. Please tell me what you think, even if you think it sucks. I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

* * *

Castiel had once again decided that Christmas was a confusing holiday. Not for the first time, he was utterly lost as to the significance of one of the humans' Christmastime rituals – this one, the laying out of cookies for something called a "Santa Claus." In reality it would probably be Gabriel who ate them the second their backs were turned, but it was the thought that counted. Dean had told him that originally Santa was called Saint Nicholas or Sinter Klaas, but Castiel doubted the truth in this. He had met Saint Nicholas during the fourth century, and although he had been a truly kind and devout man, he had never done something like ride a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer and drop presents into children's houses. And he most certainly wasn't a fat man in a red and white suit.

"Just don't think too hard about it," Sam said as he finished arranging their presents neatly underneath the enormous tree in the main room of the bunker. He and Dean had just finished wrapping the last of theirs today, so he had had to do some creative stacking and rearranging to get them all to fit together. "Santa Claus is just a kids' story anyway. Adults know he isn't real."

"So parents lie to their children about an old fat man who breaks into their homes to bring them toys? Why on Earth would they do that?"

"I dunno. We never really believed in him, but then our dad was also really quick to point out that any creature that flew around in the dark of night and snuck into people's houses needed to be killed and fast. On second thought, don't use us as an example. We didn't have a very Christmassy childhood."

"Alright, but how does a man who uses the bastardized form of a saint's name fit into the story of Christmas? Gabriel was present during the birth of Jesus; there was no fat man in red there."

"It… It really doesn't have anything to do with that, Cas," Sam answered honestly, just as Dean and Gabriel came into the room from behind them. "Christmas isn't strictly a religious holiday per se anymore. For a lot of people, it's more about giving and receiving presents and taking vacations than going to church or thanking God for anything."

Castiel's eyes narrowed, and he glared at the Christmas tree and pile of presents as if they'd just purposely spat on his shoe. "But how can that be? Isn't this holiday called Christmas, to mean 'Christ's Mass?' How could it not be about giving thanks and praise to my Father in Heaven with a name like that?"

"That might have been the original purpose, Cas," Dean cut in, realizing Sam not as well-equipped to deal with a frustrated Castiel as he was. "But for most people it really isn't now. Traditions change. People never used to work on Sundays either, and now you'd be pretty hard-pressed to find someone who's at church instead of work if their boss wants them there."

Castiel whirled around to glare at Dean; obviously that argument wasn't helping anything.

"Yes, and look where ideas like that have gotten us. Changing traditions to omit my Father is exactly what my brothers in Heaven did when they tried to bring on the Apocalypse, and we all know what a mess that was."

"I won't deny any of that," Dean said, holding his hands up placatingly. "I'm just telling you how it is these days. You can make Christmas into anything you want. Sammy and I have never had a real Christmas before now, so we're not the experts who can tell you everything about it. But as far as I know, Christmas is supposed to be about family, and togetherness, and a whole lot of other girly stuff that makes me want to puke pink glitter just talking about it. If you believe in God, that's what you celebrate and what brings you together. If not, it's just Santa, or the food or the presents or the parties. Either way, it's a celebration of _something_."

Castiel thought about this for a moment, exchanging a long look with Gabriel. Something important seemed to pass between them, because when Castiel turned back to Dean he was much calmer, and his voice back to its usual steady monotone.

"And what is Christmas to you, Dean? What traditions do you like the most?"

"Honestly, I like everything we've done this past month," he answered slowly. "If we could do everything over this way every year, I would totally be okay with that."

"Except for the part where I fell in that freezing water. No repeats on that, thanks," Sam said hurriedly, shuddering as if feeling the cold for a moment.

"Or the escalator incident," Castiel added. "Or the ice skate accidentally hitting my –"

"Alright, alright, not _everything_," Dean said, throwing his hands up and rolling his eyes. "But you know what I mean. This is the most at home I've ever felt anywhere in my life. Even with Lisa and Ben the whole Christmas thing didn't feel right; they just weren't who I was supposed to be celebrating it with."

"I second that," Gabriel said enthusiastically. "I've lived through every Christmas since the first one, and I'd say that whether it's religious or not, you guys definitely have the spirit of the season. And tomorrow I may be able to help you believe in the old stories a little bit more, too."

"What's tomorrow?" Sam asked, hoping Gabriel would reveal more of whatever mysterious plan he had mentioned yesterday.

"Nice try, Sammy. You'll just have to wait and see."

"Alright, alright… So Cas, are you still angry about the whole Santa thing, or are you good now?"

Castiel sighed, looking around at the Christmas tree, the decorations, and the family surrounding him on all sides. "No, I'm not angry about it. I never was. It's a little overwhelming to see how much has changed without my knowledge, but it's not a bad thing. And as Dean said earlier, traditions change."

"You got that right," Dean said, pulling Cas over for a quick kiss that inspired Sam and Gabriel to do the same. "But one tradition that doesn't change is pie for Christmas dinner. Come on, we gotta get baking so we can refrigerate them for tomorrow! Kevin's never gonna forgive us if there isn't any food ready when his date gets here!"

The two angels and Sam followed behind him, ready to accept his rare invitation to help in the kitchen, and Castiel and Gabriel exchanged a knowing smile. Perhaps not all traditions would last forever, but as long as they were with the Winchesters, everything was still perfect.


	24. North Star

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

"This is really good!" said Josephine Carter as she tried the pie Dean set in front of her. Kevin had brought her over for Christmas Eve dinner, as promised several days ago, and now Dean, Sam, Castiel, and Gabriel had joined the pair in everyone's first real family dinner at the bunker. "You actually cooked all this, Dean?"

Dean nodded, beaming at her praise of his cooking. If there was one thing he knew, it was pie. "Yeah, I learned to cook when Sammy and I were young and I guess I started to like it at some point along the way."

"That's cool. All I can cook is ramen noodles and Spaghetti-O's. And only in the microwave."

"Well then, maybe Kevin needs to bring you over more so you can eat some real food."

Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes at Dean. "Says the man who lived for thirty years on almost nothing but gas-station coffee and peanut M&M's."

"Hey, I did what I had to in order to survive. Now I can eat real food and I like it, okay? Anyway Kevin, you seriously need to bring her over more. That'll give me an excuse to try out a few new recipes I found a while back."

"Yeah, okay," Kevin said quietly, grabbing Josie's hand beneath the table. "Come over any time you want. I hope you won't just be coming for the food, though."

Gabriel snorted into his wine, and Castiel elbowed him in the ribs. A moment later, Kevin realized how that had sounded and turned a rich shade of scarlet.

"Well, I mean… You know what I mean, right?"

"Yeah," said Josie, giving him a peck on the cheek and squeezing his hand. "I do."

Just then Bells walked into the room, darting under the table to rub against the unfamiliar girl's legs, and Josie squeaked in surprise.

"No, Bells!" Kevin hissed, thinking Josie was afraid of her. But a second later, his concern was proven unnecessary when Josie reached down and scooped up the little kitten, holding her against her chest and petting her while she purred.

"Aww, I love cats! Aren't you cute? And a name like Bells makes you cuter. I might just take you home with me."

"I wouldn't," Sam warned from the other side of the table, pushing his empty plate away and resting a hand on his full stomach with a sigh. "She's pretty much Castiel's baby. He might not be so friendly anymore if you took her."

"I don't blame him. Well," she said slowly, getting up to put her plate in the stack by the sink and putting Bells on the floor. "I've got to go. One of my friends is all alone for Christmas and I promised her I'd drop by. But it's been really nice to see you guys. Thanks so much for having me over."

"Our pleasure," Castiel said warmly, standing up from his chair to retrieve her coat from the rack by the door. "And you really are welcome to come here any time."

"I'll keep that in mind. Merry Christmas, everyone!"

"Merry Christmas!" they echoed, and a moment later she had gone, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Kevin sighed, visibly deflating, and turned around to give a grateful look to everyone in the room. "Thanks, you guys. You have no idea how much this meant to me. I was afraid she wouldn't have a good time if I was the only one arranging it."

"Anything to help out a guy with his woman, Kev-o," Dean said warmly, clapping him on the shoulder and taking a drink from his beer. "You're family; it's what we do."

"Yeah, well, this part of the family's about ready for bed," Sam said tiredly, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "We need to be rested up for Christmas morning since Charlie's supposed to be coming, right Gabri… el?" He paused, looking around the room for the Archangel. "Uh… Wasn't Gabriel just here a second ago?"

"Yes," said Castiel, staring at the spot where Gabriel had been standing. "But I think he had something he wanted to attend to quickly. I wouldn't go to sleep just yet, Sam. You might want to see what he's doing."

"He told you?"

"He didn't have to," Castiel said simply. "I was an angel once, after all. I've seen almost all of his tricks before. Now hush and listen."

Sam and Dean stilled and listened hard, and moment later they picked up the sound of voices, joined together in what sounded like thousands as they sang in a language no human had ever heard before. The sound reverberated throughout the house, high-pitched beyond anything the human voice is capable of imitating but quiet, beautiful and relaxing.

"Cas," Dean said, awe in his eyes. "Are those… angels?"

Castiel nodded, beckoning them outside and looking skyward as if he could see something significant amongst the thousands of stars in the cold winter sky. "They're the angels of Gabriel's legion. It numbers in the thousands, second only in size to Michael's, and tonight all of their voices will join and sing praises for our Father, as they've done for millennia."

"If they've been doing this for millennia, then why haven't we ever heard them?" Sam asked, staring up at the sky in hopes of seeing whatever Castiel saw.

"It's a privilege most humans aren't granted in their lifetimes. The only reason you can hear their voices without losing your hearing now is because of Gabriel's creativity. His voice won't harm you because he channels it through a vessel, and they're directing it through humans at his command so you can hear them too."

"So this is what angels sound like when they sing?" Dean asked, wondering how Castiel's gravelly voice could ever sound anything like that.

"Yes. And I used to sound like that too if I channeled my voice through the right vessel, but Jimmy's voice is… a little rough when paired with mine, unfortunately."

"That kinda sucks, huh? But I don't care. I like your voice the way it is. You can keep singing with as much tone-deafness as you want, 'cause I can't sing either and it makes me feel better about it."

"Thank you, Dean. I think."

"That's beautiful, really," Sam said quietly when the angels' voices halted for a few moments. "But I wish Gabriel was here to listen with us."

"And he is!" Gabriel said from behind Sam, making the hunter look even taller when he jumped about a foot in the air. Sam was about to scold him for startling him so badly, but one look at his angel stopped him short.

Gabriel was dressed in a long white robe. It was so soft it almost looked to be made of pure starlight, and the ends almost touched the ground, just barely revealing his bare feet on the cold earth. Heavy golden and leather armor covered his shoulders and chest, and a thick leather belt hung around his hips; small golden chains made a fringe around the bottom of it and jingled against one another. His six golden wings flared out behind him, each covered in icicles that sparkled and shone in the light given off by his luminous feathers, and his hair had paled a few shades and grown down past his shoulders, interwoven with tiny beads of ice and snow.

In short, the Archangel was utterly amazing to behold, and it took Sam several seconds before he was able to form the words to address him.

"Wow," he finally managed, and Gabriel smirked exactly like he always did. "So is this your true form, then?"

"Not even close, Samsquatch. But this is how I appeared to all of those shepherds two thousand years ago, and in a minute I'll show you what I look like as the North Star."

"Wait," Dean said, holding up a hand. "I'm confused. You're tellin' me you were yourself _and_ the North Star? How does that work?"

"I'm an Archangel, Dean. To try to explain the physics of it would fry your human brain. Just watch and enjoy, okay?" He turned to Sam, pulling the hunter close and giving him a gentle kiss. "I'll be back by dawn, Sammy, so I won't miss Christmas morning with you guys. But for now, I have a job to do that I've been missing out on for a very long time."

Sam smiled. "Go for it, Gabe."

An instant later Gabriel vanished in a flash of light, leaving them all temporarily blinded when the darkness surrounded their vision again. And when they looked up into the sky, they noticed that the North Star had suddenly begun to shine, brighter than anyone had seen it shining in over two millennia. Gabriel was back in action.

"Merry Christmas, Dean, Cas," Sam said happily, barely hearing them when they repeated it back and all of them went back into the bunker. And when he went to bed that night, seeing the light of the North Star shining through his window, Sam was more contented than he had been in a very long time. It was his angel, _his_ Gabriel up there tonight, and right now Sam could not be more proud of him.


	25. Christmas Gifts

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.**

* * *

"_Experts still haven't been able to explain the sudden brightness of one of the northern stars last night,_" said a reporter on the television in the bunker's main room. "_But some people are already calling it a 'Christmas Miracle,' a sign of God's continuing love for humanity and His desire to give us hope, and having it happen on Christmas night seems to be a sign of better things to come. Astronomers assert that as of yet there is still no proof of –"_

"Well, _that's_ pretty awesome," Charlie Bradbury said as she turned off the news channel to address the other people in the room. "Looks like you guys've been pretty busy while I was gone."

"Just a little bit, yeah," Gabriel said with a pleased grin. "And I'd say I pulled off last night's plan to perfection, wouldn't you?"

"He isn't the angel of humility," Sam whispered to Charlie, and Gabriel huffed when she started to giggle.

"Hey! I worked my ass off to make that happen just right! Can you imagine the widespread destruction it would've caused if thousands of people just miraculously heard a thousand angels' true voices? It takes a ton of control to pull that off!"

"I know, Gabriel. I was teasing," Sam said with a tiny smile, hugging Gabriel tightly. "That really was awesome to see. I had no idea you were so… angelic-looking when you wanted to be."

"And more importantly, you gave hope and joy to thousands of people, just as you were originally sent to do with your revelations," Castiel added, sitting down on the couch beside the Christmas tree while he waited for Dean to finish arranging the presents just how he liked them.

"All right," the older Winchester said when he'd finally mapped out all of the presents' locations and how he wanted to distribute them. "How about we all open some presents now?"

"Sounds good to me," said Charlie, sitting cross-legged on the floor like the angels and Sam. "It looks like you're gonna play Santa, right Dean?"

"Yup. Sammy, looks like you're up first." Dean retrieved a small box wrapped in red paper and tied with a bright green ribbon, and the younger man took it as if afraid it might bite him. "Sam, it's just a box. You act like you've never seen one."

"I know, sorry. Just savoring my first real Christmas present, I guess."

"Well savor faster. We gotta get through lots of these."

Sam snorted but tore open the package quickly, his eyes widening when he realized that it was a new tablet computer with more memory than his laptop had ever had. "Wow… Dean, how'd you know I was thinking about one of these?"

"It's wasn't hard to tell when your eyes lit up every time we passed one in the stores," Dean said with a shrug. "And I think you mentioned something a long time ago about uploading the stuff in the library here to a computer system. I thought maybe Charlie could help with that part since I don't even know how to program my cell phone."

Sam beamed at him, doubtlessly already geeking out over the prospect of digitalizing all of the books in the Men of Letters library. "Thanks, Dean. I love this."

Dean nodded and smiled, reaching for another present under the tree. "Alright, next up is…"

* * *

It took them about half an hour to unwrap everything under the tree. That was a lot less time than it took to actually wrap everything, but that was all part of the experience; the decorating and building took a lot more time than the actual event. Gabriel wound up with pretty much every form of chocolate imaginable, from truffles to turtles to a book about types of gourmet chocolates and even some chocolate syrup, a gag gift from Charlie that also came with hilarious – and fairly naughty – suggestions on what to use it for.

Dean had more simple tastes, which suited him just fine since he got a lot of kitchen utensils, the new jacket Sam had bought him, and lots of other new clothing, as well as some supplies for the Impala such as oil and a receipt for four new tires at the auto shop in Salina. In addition to the tablet, Sam also got a lot of reference books, some new clothes – including some that weren't plaid for once – and something from Gabriel that made him blush and refuse to open the box for anyone else in the room.

Charlie, unsurprisingly, received some of the geekier gifts of the bunch, like tickets to the new film of _The Hobbit_ that was currently showing in theaters and several props and articles of clothing she could use for LARPing, including an angel blade from the two Winchesters that would serve as both a beautiful prop and insurance against angel or demon attacks. Kevin received a brand-new smartphone from Sam, and in addition to some new clothing and things like everyone else had gotten, everyone had pitched in to give him and Josie a trip to Pensacola, Florida, to enjoy the beach for a week in January without any interference from any of them. Kevin was so happy with that last one he looked ready to cry, and everyone else was happy for him.

Finally, it came time for Castiel to open his gifts. He was very nervous at first, used to giving gifts and aid to people without expecting much in return, but he caught on quickly enough. Sam had given him books on subjects that ranged from gardening to fiction to history of non-supernatural figures, things that the Men of Letters bunker did not have and that Castiel always liked learning about. He received very few new clothes, since he liked wearing Dean's anyway and would likely just wear more of them now that Dean had some new ones himself. When he came to the last box, Castiel slowed, cupping the tiny parcel in his hand as if to try and feel the contents through it.

"You might wanna open that before you try to see what it is, Cassie-boy," Gabriel teased. "Knowing it's from Dean, it might be just a condom or something as a joke."

Dean looked ready to murder Gabriel for some reason, and the Archangel immediately shut up, realizing that whatever was in that box would be extremely significant. Castiel nodded, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper to reveal a tiny clamshell box covered in red velvet. Castiel's eyes widened, and he pulled it open and gaped at the silver ring inside, pulling it out to examine the words etched into the band.

Dean gulped nervously, not sure how to read the intensely shocked look on Castiel's face. "If you don't like it, Cas, we can exchange it for something else or –"

"Hush, I'm reading this," Castiel said softly, his eyes tracing over the Enochian sigils that had been carved into the inside of the silver band. When he had finished, there were tears pooling in the corners of his eyes and he was beaming at the hunter. "Dean, this is beautiful…"

"What's it say?" Sam asked, reaching for the ring and laughing when Castiel yanked it away from him to clutch it to his chest instead.

"It's Enochian, and it says 'For you who makes my spirit soar.'"

Everyone _aww_'ed at that, and Dean grimaced and blushed, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Well, it uh… It sounds a little cornier out loud, I guess, but…"

"No, not at all!" Castiel said fiercely. "It's an amazing gift, Dean. I only wish I'd gotten something better for you now than a two-year subscription to the Pie of the Month Club."

Dean laughed, leaning forward to give Castiel a kiss. "I love that, Cas. You and me are gonna have so many different kinds of pie, and it'll be awesome. Plus, it was really funny to see the ring engraver staring at me like I was some kind of crazy devil worshipper when I handed him that design. I think he almost had a heart attack when I told him it was for my boyfriend."

Castiel chuckled and punched Dean lightly in the shoulder. "You're awful, you know that?"

"Yup. And proud of it."

"Well, now that we're done with presents, how about we go see a movie?" Kevin asked, picking up stray pieces of wrapping paper and dropping them into a trash bag. "Charlie's got that ticket to _The Hobbit_, after all, and there's a showtime we can still make if we hurry."

Everyone agreed to that, and in only a few minutes they were headed out to the Impala, ready to pile in and get ready to see what would either be a great or terrible movie simply because of the nature of the genre. Just before they locked the door behind them, Dean pulled Castiel aside, holding up the ex-angel's right hand to get a better view of the ring.

"I'm really glad you like the ring, Cas. I already have a mark of our relationship because of that handprint you left on my body and soul, so I felt like I should give you a little something to prove we're together too. I really do love you, Cas."

"I love you too, Dean. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Dean said, pulling Cas into a kiss that lasted long enough for the people still outside to start honking the Impala's horn at them. Laughing, they broke apart, waving to the car's occupants and coming out the door to join them.

"Dean, will we be celebrating Christmas like this next year?" Cas asked right before they reached the Impala.

"Oh, you'd better believe it, Cas. We definitely will."

But then, with a gift like his family, it could almost be Christmas every day.

* * *

**A/N: Well, this is the end, folks. I hope you've enjoyed these stories, because I know I've enjoyed writing them. Merry Christmas, and a Supernatural New Year!**


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